


Five words for love

by Skadia



Series: To see the world as you do [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Damian Wayne is Robin, Depression, Everybody died and came back to life, Fluff, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Mentions of Rape, Miscommunication, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Tim has depression, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-01-17 05:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 44,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12358062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skadia/pseuds/Skadia
Summary: There was four words in ancient greek to talk about love. And one that doesn't exist that sums up every form of love.When you're part of Batman's family, you're bound to experience most of them. And the backlash that comes with losing the ones you love. And losing yourself too.And when you're part of this family, there is always someone to remind you of four words that make you keep fighting even when you lost everything in the fight.





	1. Storge: The love of the family

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I need a timeline for Damian's pets !  
> this takes place after the end of the anime " teen titans the judas contract" in which Raven gives a puppy to Damian. So there is now two dogs in Wayne Manor, Titus and Ace.  
> Because yes, I named the second puppy after the original dog of Bruce because I like messing things up ^^

 

_Storge : The love of the family. Love between parents and offspring. Love between brothers and sisters._

 

 

« Well, that was fun ! » Batgirl comments.

She's perched on top of an AC unit that dispenses hot air on her calves, creating a nice contrast to the chilly air of Gotham.

« Too easy to be real fun. » Nightwing says, he still has his eyes on the street twelve levels below them where the police is fetching a bunch of thieves that they left tied to a street lamp. Like they would escape too soon if he does not check on them every five seconds until they disappear into a police car.

Batgirl jumps from her cozy spot. « You did not tell me what brings you to Burnside ? »

« I was planning on asking you to share dinner with me. »

« Don't you have a girlfriend to annoy for that ? »

« She's on a mission in space with the Titans. »He flashes her a smile. « Please say yes ? Blüdhaven is still really quiet after Catwoman's stunt, I'm bored ! »

Batgirl laugh. « Fine. Let me finish my patrol and I'll meet you at my place. » She steps on the edge of the roof, grapnel in hand. « I suggest sushi ! » She says before jumping, firing the grapnel and pulling herself up to another roof with a little excited sound. It makes Nightwing smile.

She knows almost every rumor about herself, most of them state that she probably became Batgirl because she was infatuated with Batman. It couldn't be farther from the truth.

It's actually creepy she thinks as she wanders the city, the faint echo of Police frequency on her earplug. Batman trained her, taught her how to ride a bike long before his father allowed it, taught her how to fight, how to survive, taught her everything she needed to know to be part of the team, but for years, he did it reluctantly.

Truth is, if he did not train her, she would have been a liability because she was a stubborn teenager and wouldn't let go of this life. Training her was Bruce's way to keep her alive.

He gave her her first costume, but she was Batgirl at heart long before that.

She kicks some more asses that night. Mostly drunk students with low inhibitions and trying to grope women outside of bars. Nothing unusual, nothing big.

Having Dick Grayson in her lounge when she comes back tastes like home, like normalcy which tells a lot about her lifestyle. He brought sushis for her and tacos for him. Probably a little more than he's able to eat because he knows her well enough to know she'll pick at his food anyway. He showered and smells like her blueberry scented soap. Dick never really cared about gendered scents... None of them did after a while. Being clean was already a luxury sometimes so they don't really bother what their skin smells like as long as they're not covered in mud, blood or goo...

She heads to the shower and peels herself out of her costume. This patrol was nothing more than a little workout but it still feels good to be back home early.

« What's on program ? » She asks when she comes back into the lounge where Dick is already munching on his food in front of the TV.

« Walking dead ? »

« I'm one season behind. »

« Then marathon Walking dead ! » He smiles. « Hope you have popcorn. »

« I do. »

They eat in silence through the first episode, not as close as hey would normally be on the couch. It's already strange that he would come to her after she sprayed him with a toxin that put him through almost one week of constant nightmares. Neither him or Jason that sheltered him during that time wanted to tell her what his nightmares were about, but she was ready for him not to speak to her for a long time after that.

Apologizing now would be too little too late. But she's relieved and grateful that he's here. Like things between them are almost back to normal. Many rumors say that she's Batgirl because of her relationship to first, Robin, then Nightwing. Which is also untrue. Dick was an added bonus to a life she had chosen before meeting him. Before knowing what he did at night.

If the rumors knew she was Jim Gordon's daughter, maybe they would understand how she became Batgirl.

Growing up she wanted to be a cop, and like every cop child, she was told over and over again that she deserved way better than this dangerous job, underpaid and without recognition. It stuck to her like a bad taste in the back of her mouth that her father would never forgive her if she became a cop. So she did what any teenager would do: she escaped through the window and fought crime behind his back.

It was absolutely reckless and stupid but she was fifteen and did not know better. And it was fun. Danger and adrenaline went hand to hand and it was way more exciting that going to school. Take a fifteen years old girl, tell her that she can be a superhero at night, and keep it a secret to all of her friends by day. Obviously Barbara Gordon was sold even before Dick Grayson took her by the hand during a boring charity gala and led her to the rooftop to kiss her.

No one knows about that (well, Bruce probably knows... his father too), but it was really hard to resist him after that. And Barbara was sold when they started jumping from roof to roof in their gala outfits, just for the thrill of it because they were young and stupid and she was in love and drunk more on adrenaline than champain.

The love they once had is gone now. It's not painful, they grew up, they moved on and life happened. Their life being hectic, full of dramas, it was almost written in the stars that they would end up being nothing more than friends and occasional partners in fight. 

They talked about it once. They're fine like this. Eating and bantering about TV show and sometimes saving each other's life. They grew up and Barbara never saw that one coming. Growing up was not part of her plan when she became Batgirl. 

Dick frowns at his phone screen.

« You told Kori that I was here ? »

She nods. « Unlike you, if she's mad at me, I can't apologize in bed. »

He laugh. "How did you reach her ? She's been out of reach for weeks ! »

« Hacked the Watchtower system to transfer the message to the Titans spaceship. »

« Bruce will not be happy about it. »

« Bruce already asked me to upgrade the security of their system. »

« Of course he did. »

She takes advantage of his momentary distraction to steal a bite of his food and he pats her hand away.

« They'll be back tomorrow if they're on the ship. » She says. « Do you want me to patrol through Bludhaven so you can take the night off ? »

« You set foot on my teritory and I'm never buying you food again. » He threatens.

« Fine. Suit yourself cowboy. »

She became Batgirl on her own, but she found a family along the way. That was not part of the plan, but it's a perk.

Ancient greeks had a word for the love you feel toward your family : Storge. She thinks it's a beautiful word. It does not imply anything romantic. Nothing out of this world, and nothing that would be as mandatory as the love you owe to your parents because they gave you life.

Neither Batman, Robin or Nightwing gave her life. They saved her life and she saved theirs. They share understanding, respect, tenderness. They're a family. A chosen family. 

That's something the rumors never speaks about. That's how she knows to never listen to rumors. They always miss the point. 

 

##

« That went well. » Robin says, carefully sitting on his chair at the Teen Titans control station.

« You're not fooling anyone ! » Blue beetle growls. « You're as bruised and tired as me ! »

« I can still stand by myself. »

« I can change that if you want. »

Robin clicks his tongue and starts reviewing security footages of the last weeks to catch up on what he missed while on mission. It's boring and he quickly switch to fast speed.

« You never take any break ? » Raven asks from the door.

« I will after I check up on everything. »

« The world is still turning which means everything's fine. »

« Thanks for the intel. » He says dryly. He hears her sigh and leave in a rustle of her cape. She's actually right, nothing major happened these past weeks and he should really go to sleep. But raising from his seat is almost above his forces. He might fall asleep here, this seat is really cozy now that he found a position that doesn't hurt any of his bruises. Suddenly there's a clicking on the floor and a dark form jumps on him, too quick for him to dodge and he finds himself with a lap full of black puppy that enthusiastically licks at his face.

« Ow, gross ! Ace stop this ! »

Of course this does nothing to the untrained puppy and it takes several more minutes of canine greetings until Damian can get back on his feet. The puppy happily follows him through the tower, waits for him while he showers and jump on the bed as soon as Damian is settled in his room.

« You know » Damian says already sleepy « You're technically not allowed in bed with me. »

The puppy licks his nose with a little bark and Damian smiles, wraps an arm around the dog and falls asleep in a heartbeat.

Of course, he's awaken way too early by the dog needing food and to pee because Raven probably trained him to be as annoying as he can possibly be and Damian is still muttering curses when he opens the door of the tower, letting Ace run free on the beach, chasing after seagulls. The sky is dark, dawn is not there yet and he smells the salty ocean, still quiet at this hour of the morning.

« What do you think about morning jogs Ace ? » He asks the dog who proudly comes back to him with a stick he found on the beach.

It takes Damian ten more minutes to unpack a comfortable training gear and leave a note on the Titans common room and he's back on the beach, chasing after Ace, then running on the sand for a while before he reaches the bridge to Jump City. He doesn't even stop when he calls Pennyworth, his breathing is carefully controlled when he asks for a ride to Gotham. 

« A plane will be awaiting for you at the airport sir. » The butler says like it's a perfectly normal situation. « I'm thrilled to know you're back from your mission. »

« I can hear sarcasm in your voice Pennyworth. »

« It was meant to be heard. »

« I'll pilot the plane. »

« You will certainly not ! »

« I know how ! »

« You won't pilot the plane young man ! »

It takes him almost an hour, running at half speed to reach the airport and he's definitely out of breath by the time he jumps into the plane and Ace is panting too.

Two hours later they land in Gotham and a limo is waiting for them. Damian smirks thinking about what some people would say about him being a rich brat and he truly can't give a damn.

It's Waffle Day if his calculs are right ( and they always are) so it's no surprise that Grayson is at the Manor already arguing with his father when Damian steps into the kitchen. He nods at them, and perches on a stool at the counter while Ace sits at his feet patiently waiting for a treat.

"You're not giving the sex talk to Damian !" Dick says raising a hand to prevent anyone from speaking. "Your talk about safe sex became obsolete the day he was conceived."  
"HE is here." Damian pipes.  
"And HE is going to do a damn better job at protecting himself than his father did!"  
Bruce sighs. "You'll never let that go don't you?"  
"You hid condoms in my belt when I was fourteen! I'll remind you what an hypocrite you are until one of us dies again !"  
Tim snorts in his morning coffee, which earns him a dirty look from both his adoptive brothers and father.  
"Don't worry about me, I had a mother who did that job long ago! " He says."and Selina filled up the blanks."  
Dick blinks and Bruce clenches his teeth.  
"Why would you need miss Kyle's advice? Did your mother make a poor job educating you?" Damian asks, charming as ever.  
Tim smirks. "My mother told me that you should always listen to your partners desire. And I'm a fast learner."  
He exits the kitchen, carrying a too full mug of streaming coffee back to the Batcave, trying really hard not to laugh at the three other's shocked expression.  
"Did he... What?" Dick stutters. Bruce already has his phone in hand.  
"Did you have sex with my son?" He asks as soon as Selina picks up.  
"Which one ?"  
And Damian loses it.   
He doesn't laugh much, but his Father's face is... There's no common word for the mixture of angry, shocked, and puzzled that fight on his features.   
"Is this a joke Selina ? Do you think this is funny?"  
"Come on Bruce ! It IS funny ! Can someone take a picture ? I bet your face is hilarious !"  
This is Hell. Bruce died and went straight to hell where everything is a complicated sex joke that only Damian think is funny.  
"The answer is no Bruce. Not that it would be any of your business anyway. But when they come to me with questions, I answer them. They think it's less awkward with me than with you."  
Bruce turns to Dick, raising an eyebrow,purposely ignoring Damian that wipes tears from his eyes.  
"Did Tim came to you?"  
He can almost hear her smile at the end of the line.  
"None of your business Mr Wayne. But I told him everything he wanted to know."

Damian is still gigling uncontrolably and blames it on his lack of sleep when Pennyworth puts the first plate of waffles before him while his father ends the phone call pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

« Since I'm asked » Damian says « I think I already stated that Mother already had this talk with me when I was ten. »

« And that's exactly why you need another talk ! » Father says. «I don't even want to know what she told you on that particular subject. »

Thankfully, Grayson is already stuffing his mouth with waffles and silent for a moment. Father crouches next to Damian stool to pet Ace. « What's your name buddy ? »

« Ace. » Damian says. « Say hello. »

Ace obediently extend a paw into Bruce hand and the man smiles, petting him some more.

« Tell him the bats in the cave are off limits, Alfred-the-cat fell on my head last night trying to catch one. »  
« Sorry about that Father. »

« Nothing to be sorry about. » Bruce smiles. He stands, petting his son on the shoulder. « It's good to have you back son. You and your new friend. »

« It's good to be back Father. »

« And we're having this talk Damian ! » Grayson says pointing a fork in his general direction.

« Yeah so I can have vivids pictures of you and Kori on my next mission, thanks but no thanks ! »

Grayson blushes a little and Damian could swear he heard a chuckle coming from Pennyworth. The rest of the breakfast is spent telling them about the latest Titans mission before Father goes to work.

« What is Drake working on lately ? » Damian asks. « Not that I care but he looks worse than usual. »

Grayson sighs. « Compiling files for your little crusade with Selina. »

Damian frowns. « When I left, we had files and plans to expose like fifty men … don't tell me he spent these last weeks working on it ? »

«I only tell you what I know. He's working on that and probably a lot of other stuff. He's... None of us knows how to get him to rest. When he's not at the batcomputer, he's on patrol. »

« Even Father... »

« Couldn't force him to sleep this weeks. »

« It's friday. »

« I know that. » Grayson says. « Like I said, none of us knows how to talk to him anymore. »

Of course, when Damian steps into the batcave, Tim is here, compiling files, the blue screen making him look ill.

« You need rest Drake. »

« You've been here for five minutes and you're already bossing me around ? »

« I wouldn't have to do it if you took care of yourself. »

« I'm fine. »

« No you're not. »

« Let's say it's none of your business. »

« Everything that happens in this manor is my business. »

Tim shoots him a dirty look.

« Mind your pets Wayne, contrary to me they missed you. »

« I'm not above druging your next coffee and dragging you to bed Drake. »

« And I'm not above kicking your ass to teach you about a little thing called consent. »

They silently fight through their eyes for a moment. Tim is the first to lower his gaze and turn back to the computer.

« Leave me alone Damian. »

There's an edge on Tim's voice that Damian never heard before.

« What happened to you Drake ? »

Tim doesn't answer, doesn't look at him, waits untill Damian exits the cave to take his head in his hands and grunts, shivering violently. He feels about to throw up, but he only has coffee in his stomach since god knows when. He can't sleep, he tried, he just can't.

Damn him and his self destructive tendencies.

Damn him.

 

##

Clark knows Bruce is in his apartment before he opens the door. He can hear his slow heartbeat and his breathing. He switches the light out of habit. He doesn't really need it but it's what humans do.

« Will you ever give me a call before breaking into my home ? » He asks pleasantly.

« Probably not. » Bruce answers from his seat on Clark's armchair.

« I'll make you a spare key. »

« I have no use for spare keys. »

Clark rolls his eyes, removes his jacket and hangs it on the closet next to the door before joining Bruce on the armchair, sitting on his lap, brushing his lips against the billionaire's.

« That's for the sake of pretending you're a normal human being. »

« Pretending being the key word here. »

They kiss lazily for a few minutes, just because it's good and they're not in the mood to do anything else lately.

« Did you order one of your extra fancy meals or do I have to feed you ? » Clark asks finally.

« Diner's on its way. »

There are perks to dating one of the richest peole on earth.

« No patrol tonight ? »

Bruce shakes his head. He looks worried and tired. « Gotham can deal without Batman for a night. »

Clark frowns. That's something he never exected to hear coming from Bruce.

« Are you alright ? »

Bruce shakes his head. « I had a bad day »

Which is almost a code to ask Cark not to press further questions so he doesn't ask, knowing that Bruce will open up to him when he'll feel like it. That time may never come but Clark knows him enough not to ask questions that will not be answered. They eat, talk about unimportant things, plops in front of the TV like any other normal couple and Bruce doesn't say a word about Clark's cotton sheet when they go to bed. Which is strange because over the years it became kind of a joke between them, Clark disapproving of Bruce overly expensive bedding and Bruce complaining about how itchy Clark's sheets are.

« I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. » Clark says softly as they lay side by side, looking at his empty ceiling, listening to the city sounds outside.

« It's... Complicated. »

« Our lives are complicated. Explain it to me slowly and I'll do my best to understand. »

That owes him a punch in the ribs and he laughs a little. « Come on Bruce, that's what couples do, they share their problems. »

It takes so long before Bruce answers that Clark really think he'll fall asleep before his lover says anything.

« Dick still blames me for Damian's... conception. »

Clark frowns, that explain a lot even if nobody knows a lot about that particular night. He himself knows what happened only because Bruce felt compelled to talk about it the first time they attempted to have sex.

« You're still not telling him what happened ? »

« It's pointless. »

« Not pointless if it helps him understand. »

« Understand what ? » Bruce snaps. « That I was stupid enough to be drugged by someone I should never trust? You know Dick cannot keep his mouth shut. If he knows, Damian will know sooner or later. And that is out of the question. »

Clark doesn't say anything and Bruce hates this silence between them. Clark is the only person that can make him uneasy enough to start babbling just so he would fill the silence between them.

« I'm not letting my son know that his father did not want him. »

« He already knows that Bruce. »

« We... managed to have a decent relationship... He has enough problems already, I don't want him to question if his parents care about him even more than he already does. I'm not taking any risk that he might discover that his mother abused me."

There, the word has been said. Not the exact term of what happened, but it's way closer to the truth that whatever anyone think happened between Bruce and Talia.

« So you're okay with Dick blaming you for something you're not responsible of. »

« I'm okay with never letting Dick know what happened knowing damn well he got through the same shit ! » Bruce almost yells jumping out of bed. He takes a few steps and stands by the window, resting his head on the cool glass.

« I think you should also let him know that you know about Tarentula. »

« That's … invading his privacy, he would ressent me for it. »

Clark sighs. « Is there any situation where you don't see only the bad outcome ? »

« No. » Bruce says. « I wish I could, but no. »

Clark stands behind him, as softly and slowly as he can, like he's mindful not to scare him, and wraps his arms around Bruce bare torso. He's warmer than most humans, strangely soft despite all his muscles and his hands have a calming effect on Bruce.

« He's your son. He loves you. He'll understand. And Damian will too. They know you love them. »

« It never kept them from resenting me before. »

And there it is, the big weakness of Bruce Wayne, his fear of failure, his fear that his loved one will leave him. Clark doesn't have words to help him get through this. You don't heal years of traumas with kind words whispered on your lover's hear, he knows that. That's something he can only help Bruce go through on his own.

« Nothing ever kept them for going over their anger before. » He says softly. « I know you want to protect them, but you have to protect yourself too. »

Bruce squeezes his hands, leaning on his chest with a deep breath and Clark kisses his shoulder.

« I have you for that. »

« I can't protect you from your own fears Bruce. »

« A man can hope. »

Clark smiles. « An ordinary man can. But you're no ordinary man. »

« Flattery will get you everything you want Mr Kent. » Bruce turns in his arms, cups his head in his hands and kisses Clark on the lips.

« I only want you to think about what I said. And come back to bed. »

As he pulls the cover over Bruce's shoulders, Clark thinks that if he could ask for one more power it would be the ability to make Bruce see himself through his eyes. See the devoted father, the good man behind the mask. If Clark could ask for one power, it would be to push faith into Bruce, to give him the trust he needs to see his family as a place of love and acceptance and not another place where he doesn't allow himself to fail.

One way or another, Bruce has to learn that his family won't reject him, because they love him as much as he loves them. 

They love him because he's the man who's willing to hide his bad experiences to protect his son. 

They love him because he has flaws and traumas. 

They love him because he takes care of them. 

And he loves them for the exact same reasons. 

Which is why no one in this family understand the others. Trying to protect everyone but yourself is how you get insecure, tired, full of useless secrets and Clark wishes with all his heart the he could show them what he sees : an infinite love in a family that never say it out loud. 

 

 

 


	2. Philia

_Philia: deep comradely, friendship that developed between brothers in arms who had fought side by side on the battlefield. Showing loyalty to your friends, sacrificing for them, as well as sharing your emotions with them._

 

 

Tim is sleeping. He knows it because he never let himself think about some memories when he's awake. So this is a dream. One of the nice ones that used to wake him up with a smile on his face.

**He's in his apartment, working on a report for Lucius Fox and Conner reads a pile of books at fast speed, sprawled on his couch. Tim is a little envious of his capacity to flip through a book and remembers it like he's somehow capable of inhaling the knowledge from every textbook. One of the perks of having superspeed and hopefully Luthor's intellect without the vicious part. Conner is a fast learner but somehow, only Tim is allowed to see him «  study » Not even the Kent can surprise him with his nose in books and his grades are just above average mostly because Conner doesn't even try to be good at school. Valedictorians tend to draw way too much attention upon themselves.**

**« Did you know the ancient Greeks valued friendship more than sex ? » Conner asks randomly.**

**Tim shakes his head. « Makes sense anyway. Many friends share a more lasting bound than ocasional lovers. » He says.**

**« They saw it as a form of love called « philia » » Conner says again flipping through his book. « I guess this is from that that we got words like Hydrophilia or héliophilious... »**

**« Is that even a word ? »**

**« Means someone who like being exposed to the sun. »**

**Tim rolls his eyes and Conner smiles.** **The subject seems close so Tim turns back to his computer but Conner speaks again, softer this time.**

**« I like knowing that there's a word for the love you have for a friend. It means that I'm not a total freak for liking you. »**

**Tim freezes because his heart just missed a dozen beat at the same time.**

**« Wh... What ? » He stutters turning to Conner once again. His face must be white or bright red and Conner has this puppy look he only gets when he's done something stupid.**

**« Sorry... didn't meant to embarass you... forget it. »**

**In this dream, Tim can sense his shame, his certitude that he screwed up, and how avoiding his gaze feels like the best option to Conner.**

**« I'm not embarassed. » Tim says. « Well... No, it's akward Kon... you basicaly just … told me you love me. »**

**« As a friend ! » Conner says too fast. « I like you. I like having you as a friend. »**

**Tim nods but in the dream he feels how awkward Conner feels. And he remembers his own sensations... How his heart took several minutes to be steady again, and the smile in his face that was not only a grin mocking Conner's lack of filter.**

**They drop the subject for hours until it's time for Tim's patrol and Conner heads to the window so he can fly back to Smalville. Tim holds him back by his shirt.**

**« Just so you know Clone Boy. I like having a friend like you. And I like this « philia » thing. It... represents us well. »**

**Conner smiles.**

**His smile could lit up an entire street and Tim grunts mentally for being so cheezy.**

**« So we're good ? »**

**« More than good. »**

 

When Tim wakes up, he has a smile on his face, he feels good for the time it takes him to realize how long ago that was. How much happened since then.

And that since then, Conner flew out the window, and never came back.

That's why he never bask in good memories lately. They only bring back the sad ones afterward, and Tim feels worse everytime.

Time to lose himself in work and make it through one more day.

 

##

« How did you do that ? » Bruce asks frowning.

« You'd be amazed what a smile and the word «  please » can get you in this world. »

« You'd be amazed at how much I pay my secretary to resist your smile and pleas. »

Clark smirks and gesture toward Bruce to exit the private jet he somehow managed to book in the last twelve hours. He's not yet accustomed to the idea that their luggage will follow them to the hotel like some miracle happened that rich people don't really need to know about.

« Hawaii huh ? » Bruce says again when they're settled in a limo that Clark definitely did NOT book. When Bruce secretary said that she would book «  the usual » he did not realize his usual was worth more than his yearly income. Not that it's a problem actually because everything they use belongs to Wayne Enterprise.

« You needed a vacation. »

Bruce frowns again, then looks out the window. « This is unwise. » He says. « On many levels. »

« Amina thought that it was a good idea. »

« Anything that allows Amina to work without me disturbing her is a good idea from her point of view. » 

« Are you that much of an unbearable boss ? »

« She plans everything. It's her job. » Bruce says, a hint of fondness in his voice. « And she hates that Bruce Wayne is always late, always wasted and never, ever, sticks to any planning. »

« Sounds like a straight way to some burn out. »

Bruce nods. « Don't quote me on that mister reporter, but she secretely loves it. It makes her job entertaining instead of boring. And it's Alfred who deals with most of the unpleasant things. »

« Like dirty underwear on the couch and coke on your credit card ? »

« You've read about that. »

Clark nods. « I'm a journalist. I know a staged scene when I see one. But this one Bruce … »

« Hum. » Bruce says. « I admit the underwear part was for show. » He smirks, something that doesn't reach his eyes. « Everyone knows they don't last long enough to get dirty. »

And there's something is the dryness of his voice that makes Clark certain that this surprise vacation was more than a good idea. It was a necessity. And it's going to be a nightmare to get Bruce Wayne out of Batman.

« You know, you could play the role of a good person. The one I know you are. »

Bruce looks at him for the first time since they entered the moving vehicle. « It's not a mask if it's you. Besides, I'm not a good person. »

« Best kept secrets are the ones who are right under your nose. » Clark says softly. « And you're not in a place to judge yourself. »

But it's a good start that Bruce somehow admitted that a part of him is a good person that could be shown. Not only for publicity purpose, not only through the filter of the billionaire who waste his money on random orphanages, but shown as the genuinely caring person that Clark knows he is deep down. This is never going to happen of course, but as long as he remembers it, it's good.

They don't talk after that, they look by the window and Bruce casually mutters a few information about places they go through until they reach their destination.

The room has two king sized bed, an extraordinary view on the lagoon and a bathroom more spacious than Clark's living room in Metropolis. He takes a few minutes to embrace the luxury of the clean decor before his eyes goes back to Bruce once again.

Bruce that is currently sitting on the edge of one of the beds, his head in his hands, his shoulders tense like he's physically fighting a headache. Clark carefully sits next to him, move a hand slowly to Bruce neck not to startle him, and gently massage his sore muscles.

« Why do you do this Clark ? »

« Because you're tense. Don't you ever go to a chiropractor or something like that ? » Clark aswers now massaging Bruce shoulders with both hands.

« You know I don't. And you're avoiding my question. »

Clark makes a point to massage Bruce one minute longer before he stops and kneels in front of his lover, cuping his head in his hands.

« Because you're... Not you lately. Since Dick made this comment about you and Talia. »

« Don't talk about that ! » Bruce spits jerking away from him.

« This exactly. » Clark says, sitting back on his heels. « This is what I'm talking about. You need to make peace with what happened. And be comfortable enough to talk about it with Dick and Damian. »

Bruce's lips are now a fine line barely noticeable, his jaws clenched like his fists. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to kick Clark in the chin.

« I made it clear that this topic was closed the last time. » He says, voice as cold as ice.

« Was it ? » Clark raises his eyebrows, poster boy for innocence. « I didn't get the memo sorry. »

« I don't want to talk about it. »

Clark nods, raises up and looks down on Bruce with a gentle smile. « Then we won't talk about it. But you will put your mind to rest. And it's easier to do here than in Gotham. This city could turn a unicorn into a psychopath. »

Bruce doesn't smile but he doesn't make any violent move toward Clark which is a good start. He takes the hand the Kryptonian extend to him and raise from his spot on the bed.

« Your body can only take so much. And your spirit ... » Clark has a hand on Bruce jaw and it's warm and comforting and Bruce leans a little to the touch. « Your spirit has long crossed its own limits. »

There is no weight that lift from Bruce's shoulders. No feeling of anything better happening. There is no violins, no soft breeze to show that something in him breaks at this moment. But Clark sees it anyway.

Bruce doesn't fall into his arms, he doesn't cry, he doesn't breathe faster or shiver when Clark takes him in his arms. But he lets go.

It's like opening a hand that held on something for a long time. It's a conscious effort, it hurts a little, it feels weird, but he does it. He trained himself to have as much control over his own mind as it's humanly possible (and then some) so he can push his mind to the limit. But he also knows how to force his mind to rest.

He just doesn't do it. Ever.

Clark is probably not even aware that he's gently rocking them from side to side and Bruce doesn't mention it. He unwraps his hold on his own mind and loses himself in the warmth of his lover.

« Thank you. »

« My pleasure. » Clark whispers.

 

##

**Either Conner doesn't master his own strength or he forgot how light Tim is but when he helps him get back to his feet after a fight, their lips brush for the tiniest time and Tim jerks away, blushing so much that Conner can see it even if it's night time.** **He smirks and nods toward the drug dealers they just fought.**

**« Want me to drop them to the police station ? » He asks.**

**« Show off. » Tim grumbles. Conner raises an eyebrow and Tim sighs. « Yeah, I'll finish patrol and leave that to the nearest charity shop. » He says lifting the bag of money the dealers had with them. That's a lot of cash and Bruce will probably don't approve of him not handling it to the police, but Tim hates the idea that some corrupt cop might use it. He doesn't know or care what happens to this money, he just thinks that it will be better used in a food bank than in an evidence room in a police station.**

**He probably spent too much time with Selina. Her vision of the world starts to bleed on him. He doesn't really care. Damian can be the perfect Robin, it has been clearly stated that Tim lost that title the moment the kid claimed to be Bruce's blood son.**

**He watches Conner fly away, carrying the two unconscious bodies with him and makes his way to the nearest charity association location. It's a food bank and he leaves the money next to the cash register. He volunteers here sometimes, mostly when Wayne's charity needs some publicity, he knows the cash register is part for show, part for the pride of the people who come here. There is no price on the products neatly displayed on the shelves. You pay whatever you want for your grocery. Be it a dollar or nothing.**

**Tim might have had some very rough times in his life, but he was never in need. And the volunteers here explained to him that even in poverty, people hang on to the pride of owning their money, of paying their debts, of paying for their groceries. Sometimes, they steal or hurt people to do so. But there is a sense of shame that comes with destitution that no one in this food shelter wants to give their customers. You cannot help people when they feel too humiliated to ask for help.**

**Yeah this money will be more useful here than in the hands of the police Tim thinks on his way back to his apartment. There is a secret entrance on the roof and Conner is already waiting for him, fidgeting, his eyes on the cloudy sky.** **It's warmer inside of Tim's apartment. It smells like coffee because everyone thinks it's funny to give him coffee scented stuff. By now, Tim could open a store that would sell only coffee scented candles, incense, bodywash...**

**« Man, you need to sort your clothes. » Conner says when Tim turns the light on and removes his cowl.**

**« It's perfectly sorted. » Tim retorts. « If it's on the floor it needs to be washed. If it's on the table or the couch, it's clean and just needs to be put in drawers. »**

**« And when was the last time they actually saw the inside of a drawer ? »**

**Tim shrugs.**

**« Did you come in to judge my laundry schedule ? »**

**« I'm actually judging your lack of schedule for … pretty much any chore. » Conner says frowning at the pile of plates and bowls in the sink.**

**Tim rolls his eyes. It's a casual banter, one they have almost everytime they're together. « Make yourself at home, you're even allowed to do the dishes. » He smirks and disappears into the bathroom for a much needed shower. The only clothes he really bother to put in their place are his uniforms, hidden in a double secret drawer under the sink. One side for the clean ones, one for the dirty or used ones. It opens only with a precise succession of moves around the room, one that is so complicated no one would do it by accident but by now, Tim could do it in his sleep.**

**Of course when he comes back into the living room, already in his pajamas, Conner is sprawled on the couch next to a neatly folded pile of clothes.**

**« I was joking about the dishes part. » Tim says.**

**« That's why I folded the laundry. Do you know you own an hawaian shirt ? »**

**Tim nods. « Believe it or not, but it looks fantastic on me ! »**

**Conner smiles. « Since I've been such a helpful friend tonight, may I ask you something ? »**

**Tim frowns. « I'm already worried. Ask anyway. »**

**« Kiss me again. »**

**« What ? » Tim looks like a fish thrown in a bowl of vinegar and Conner smiles wickedly. No one with Superman's DNA should be physically capable of that look and Tim only has the time to make a theory that it's a trait he inherited from Lex Luthor before Conner speaks again.**

**« Back on the roof tonight, that was pleasant, and I'd like to try it further. I already know I like kissing girls, I'd like to find out if I like kissing pretty boys too. »**

**Tim's mind is blurry and he has a hard time hearing what Conner says over the sound of his heart beating hard and fast. He blinks a few times, waiting for Conner to laugh, to break character and say this is a joke, but the clone just looks at him, his smile dropping with every passing second.**

**« Sorry... » Conner says, his eyes fall to his shoes. « Sorry... I didn't want to … I... I though... I'm.... »**

**His embarasment takes Tim out of his shock and he crosses the space between them, hooks a finger under Conner's chin, lift his head up so they can look at each other. His heart is racing, he knows he has the grin of a crazy man on his face but he doesn't care. There's not enough room in his mind right now to give a single fuck about anything that is not Conner right now.**

**« That, Superboy ... » he says « That was pretty smooth. »**

**« You have low standards » Conner whispers, lowering his head so their lips brushes again.**

**Tim tiptoes and their lips meet. And damn, Tim cannot draw conclusions form one kiss alone but he already likes kissing Conner. It's warm and soft and sturdy and his body is solid like a rock and....**

**He stops thinking when they stand back half a second to breathe, change their angle and kiss again. And again. And again.**

**And Conner definitely likes kissing pretty boys as much as girls.**

**And he's good at it.**

 

Tim opens his eyes and bites his lips.

Another person would cling on the remains of the dream, but he shakes his head, rubs his eyes and yawn, trying to focus back on his computer. It's not night time yet. Too early for patrol. But he took an unplanned nap at his desk and he needs to do something, anything not to think about his dream.

That was actually a memory. One of the good ones.

One of the ones that always brings pain with them.

He's not staying in his apartment one more minute.

He grabs his keys, cellphone, a backpack with his uniform in a hidden pocket. He needs coffee and fresh air. He needs to punch something too. So sparing session at his usual dojo it will be.

Then patrol.

Then maybe, if he's lucky, a sleepless night working on various cases. He makes a mental not to buy more coffee. 

 

##

« So, your father think it's time for you to get the sex talk. » Selina says bluntly.

They are sitting in front of the Batcave computer compiling evidences about violent husbands and planning how to expose them. This is what passes for relaxing time nowadays, as strange and wrong as it might seem.

Damian rather enjoy the company of Selina Kyle, mostly because she doesn't seem to want to talk too much and she sits still like a cat, Alfred-the-cat purring in her lap (which is a little betrayal if Damian is totally honest).

He clicks his tongue not looking at her when he retorts :  « Save it for Drake, he probably needs it more than me. Or give the talk to Grayson all over again, he's kind of a slut, could benefit from it. »

Selina has a hoarse giggle that makes Alfred-the-cat purr. « You must not know them very well if you think that. » She says.

Damian sighs and finally turns to her.

« Then enlight me. »

« Growing up, Dick was a lonely child. He filled his loneliness with random hookups like most teenagers do. There's nothing slutty about that. Also, he always though of them as longlasting relationships. He's more caring and an hopeless romantic than a slut. Might I add that there's nothing bad with having multiples partners ? »

Damian clicks his tongue again, perfectly aware now that she's giving him The Talk and he's playing her game. « What about Drake ? »

« Tim is anxious. He wants to know everything, to be prepared for anything because he thinks it's up to him to make his partners feel good. And because failure is not an option for him. »

« Only Drake could think of sexual intercourses as something you can fail at. »

Selina nods. « That's because he doesn't know that intimacy means feeling good with your partners and not only because of them. »

« That... doesn't make any sense. »

« For a lot of people it does. » She's smiling. « But you've been raised to lead and conquer so that's not something I expected you to know yet."

« And what would you expect of me ? » He smirks crossing his arms.

« Being scared. » She says.

« Nothing scares me woman. »

«Don't call me woman like it's an insult Babybat. »

He holds her sight a few seconds before shaking his head. « Sorry. Miss Kyle. »

« Selina. »

« I prefer Miss Kyle. »

« Suit yourself. » She's still smiling knowingly. There is something in this woman that Damian can relate to: she likes having the upper hand as much as he does, and her first reaction to fear or lack of certitude is to physically fight it. She's reckless and an adrenaline junkie, something Damian stopped being around the age of seven, but they have enough in common that it's almost easy to respect her. And he knows she will like being called Miss Kyle like she's his teacher. They both know he indulges her by letting her think she has the upper hand when he feels like he's the one calling the shots. It's a fragile balance that works and amuse them.

She leans toward him and put a surprisingly soft hand on his cheek. « Intimacy will scare you more than it scared any of your predecessors. » She says like it's a known fact that only Damian did not know of. « Because you will find yourself vulnerable and nothing ever prepared you to that. You'll feel open and bare in more ways than you can imagine, and it will take someone really special to make you feel good about that. I hope you'll find this person. »

« Intimacy doesn't have to be about being weak in front of your partner. » He grunts.

« I bet that's what your mother taught you. » She says, her voice barely above a whisper, her thumb slowly caressing his cheek. Anyone else would lack a limb by now, but her touch is strangely comforting. « But it's more about trust than weakness. These are the things I think you'll value the most in your love life Damian. Trust and loyalty. And these are two hings that will not come naturally to you. Just like they're nothing natural for your father. »

« So you wish I'll find someone that can be for me what you are for my Father ? »

She laughs and her hand leave his cheek too soon.

« I wish you get involved in relationships way less complicated than the one I have with your father. »

« Which is ? »

« I love him. » She says. « I trust him with my life, but he knows I can't be trusted. And it's not what he's looking for in a relationship. »

« What is he looking for ? »

It should be weirder to ask one of his Father's lovers (ex?) about his love life but Selina is nothing if not open about that kind of stuff so it doesn't feel like invading his privacy.

« Safety. » She answers after a minute of reflexion. « This is why he chose Superman above everyone else. Someone he can rely on. »

« Superman could kill him with a single glare. »

Selina nods. « But your father trust him not to. He trust him with sharing his burdens. He feels less alone when they're together. It might not be his wisest choice, but that is what works for him. »

« If he hurts my father, I will rip his heart out and make him eat it. » Damian says.

Selina nods.

« I would help. »

And that's the end of the talk. Damian feels like he learned nothing and a lot of important things at the same time but for now, he puts every piece of information he collected in a corner of his mind because right now, they are useless and irrelevant. Something catches his eyes on one of the security feeds and he raises abruptly.

Selina lets him disappear into the cave, ignores the roaring of an engine that Damian is not supposed to be able to drive yet and watches on the computer screen Red Robin jumping on rooftops through a few angles.

Whatever birds do these days, she's not going to look further.

 

##

**They are cuddling on the couch that day. There is no other word describing how tangled they are around each other, Conner's head resting on Tim's chest and their legs intertwined across the coffee table. They're too lazy to reach for the remote control and spent the afternoon watching reality TV shows. They now know more about the Kardashian family than they ever wanted.**

**Tim's phone is out of reach but he can hear it buzzing for the fifth time today. He ignores it again.**

**« Someone might come to check on you if you don't pick up."  Conner says, not moving a single muscle to reach to the phone or let Tim move from his cozy spot on the cushions.**

**« You'll hear them from across the city. You'll be gone before they barge in. » Tim smiles.**

**« They don't know about us, don't they ? »**

**Tim shakes his head and re position himself next to Conner so he can actually look at him more than the TV screen.**

**« I'm not hiding our relationship you know. » Tim says. Conner nods, wait for him to say something else. « Just … What we have... it makes me happy. And I don't want anyone to feel like they have anything to say about us. This... » He takes Conner hand in his and press it hard enough that it would hurt someone else. « This is important for me. And for now, I don't want to share it. I want all of it for myself. »**

**Conner smiles. « You were definitely a single child. You don't like sharing your toys. »**

**« Not what I meant ! » Tim yells punching him in the ribs which makes the clone laugh.**

**« I know what you mean. And coming from an emotionally constipated birdie like you, I know it means a lot. »**

**Tim makes a noise imitating a buzzer and makes a face at that. « Birds are incontinent by nature you know ? »**

**« Oh Damnit TIM ! » Conner yells covering his face with his hands, trying to suppress a giggle. « Good thing I did not plan on having sex tonight because That was so unsexy I'm not having a hard on for the next ten days ! »**

**Tim laugh at that, part embarassed and part stupidly proud of how lame he allows himself to be with Conner. It's good to feel carefree like the teenager he is. It's good to simply have the biggest crush ever on the cutest boy he knows. It's good that Conner … Likes him too.**

**It's perfect when they kiss, when they touch each other, when they don't watch TV anymore and just make out for hours and it's good that Conner asks the important questions when Tim feels too good to have his defenses up.**

**« I do plan on having sex with you Tim. » He says between kisses, and his voice makes Tim shiver. « Are you okay with that ? »**

**« I'm okay with everything. »**

**« Everything... That's a lot. »**

**« Everything I can think of. But not right now. »**

**No, not right now.**

**For once they have the time to take things as slowly as they want. No one is dying tonight. No one will tear them apart soon. They don't need to rush this like they rush to save someone or save the world.**

**There is no emergency in their relationship, and for both of them it's incredibly enjoyable to take all the time in the world just for themselves.**

 

This time, when Tim wakes up, he's in pain. So much pain that for the first time since Conner left, he summon his picture in his mind.

His blue eyes to stare into. (Don't faint. )

His lips... trying to reckon the feeling of his lips. (Don't scream. )

His arms, how they could lift him and pin him anywhere. (THINK!)

What would Superboy do ?

Tim is in pain.

And Superboy won't come and save him this time.

« We're going to have fun little bird ! »

Tim raises his head with a smirk. It's the only part of him that is not bound and that he can move freely. He tries to think of a snarky comment but he hurts too much for his mind to come up with something.

He spits in the general direction of the voice that just spoke. It's mostly blood and he misses his target but he made his point.

« A lot of fun. » The voice says.

What would Superboy do ? Screw Superboy ! He's not here.

And Tim doesn't plan on doing anything.

##

 

"It's not like you to ask for back up. » Batgirl says when she reaches the meeting point Red Hood set her.

« It's not everyday that I stumble across the Joker during my patrols. He's usually a little less obvious when he breaks out of Arkham. »

« So you think this is a trap ? »

Red Hood nods. « Definitely a trap. And you know this psycho, his traps are for Batman and Robin. He won't expect us. »

« That's... a weird way of thinking. »

« Gotta know your enemy. » Red hood states and she has nothing to retort to this.

« So... How do we do this ? »

Turns out Red Hood plan involve a lot of explosives and blinding grenades. The sound echoes in Batgirl's chest along his shriek of excitement when he jumps into the fight. She has to admit, it's … a little fun.

« So good to have you here Joker ! » Red Hood yells. « I happened to need to punch someone tonight ! »

« OOOOW !» The Joker squeals from the balcony where he stands above his men that are loading a truck with stolen military equipment. « If these aren't my favorite bat babies ! How are your legs kiddo ? »

Batgirl greets her teeth. « Better than yours will be soon ! » She groans. A guy tries to catch her by her waist and she quickly dodge, pushing him away against one of his buddies. It's a rush of gunshots, some of them come from Red hood and random hits while the lights flashes around them. She's moving constantly, jumping from an enemy to another, trying to get to Joker's balcony when something catches her attention. There's a corner of the warehouse that stays black no matter how many flashing lights Red Hood keeps throwing around. She suspects he uses them mostly to harm their opponents now and is thankful for her night vision lenses.

Her mind drifts away from the dark corner when an engine starts to roar and suddenly she's violently flashed by the headlights of one of the trucks. She jumps, it's a reflex at this point and ends up on the hood of the truck, not even thinking before she hits the windshield withe her boot, one, two times and it cracks with a satisfying sound. The guy behind the wheel has some guts, but it's almost too easy to throw him away and take his place, to stop the truck before it crashes against the walls of the warehouse.

And he realizes the light is back to normal and she can only hear Joker's laugh. That cannot be good. She doesn't bother opening the door, just climbs out of the truck by the broken windshield and stands on top of the vehicle. What she sees twists her guts.

« Seems you were a little late to my little party. » Joker says and he laughs again, this screeching sound that Barbara sometimes still hear in her nightmares.

The dark corner was a cage up in the air, formerly covered by a black piece of fabric,that now lies on the ground. There's someone in the cage, and that someone is Red Robin. Batgirl identifies him at his hood because the rest of his uniform is torn and bloody and one of his arms has an unnatural position.

« You're gonna pay for that Joker ! » Red Hood threatens pointing his gun at the psychopath above him.

« And what do you think will happen to our precious little birdie if you shoot me ? » Joker asks with a devilish grin. « There's two of us and … I dunno, fifty of them ? » He points at his men and Batgirls sighs. Of course this was a trap and the dozen guys they incapacitated were just an appetizer. They're flooding the building now, from the balcony, the burst door and maybe from the roof, Batgirl can't tear her eyes away from Red Robin.

« What do you say Batgirl ? Thirty each ? »

« That would make sixty of them. »

« And they say women are bad at math.. » He snarks.

When he springs into action, even Batgirl can't see him move. But she can see the immediate reaction it has on the cage. Every body that hits the ground under Red Hood assaults send a jolt of electricity through the iron bars and Red Robin yells.

His voice is hoarse like he's already been yelling for a long time.

And the Joker laughs when the first hit takes Batgirl by surprise. The pain makes her grunts before she kicks back. Every enemy she takes down is another electric shock for Tim and she's aware of it.

« You'll have to take it a little longer Red Robin. » She yells taking down enemy after enemy, her eyes scanning the place trying to figure out the power source or whatever triggers the electric shocks. She jumps from side to side of the building until she finds it. A little cable that runs on the ground then up the wall, connected to the cage on the ceiling.

It takes two batarang to cut it and there's a deafening sound when the cage crashes on the ground and the joker laughs and laughs because this time the electricity doesn't stop, the cage is connected directly to a battery hidden by the black veil on the ground that's burning by now. Red Robin doesn't even scream anymore, he's passed out and for a split second, Batgirl is relieved.

There's a scream coming from the roof and something falls on the cage. A little something with lungs bigger than him and what seems an endless supply of energy and a high tolerance to electric shocks and Batgirls cannot see anything more because she's back into fighting, quickly finds herself back to back with Jason.

« Twenty more to go. »

« You keep counts ? »

« It's a habit. » Red Hood says firing his gun one more time then punching someone as Batgirl uses her grapnel to bind four guys together. They fall on the ground, there's a last loud bang and it's over. They're out of breath and their eyes look for the Joker that is nowhere to be seen. Next to the cage, surrounded by five bloody bodies, there's a very pissed of Robin slapping Red Robin across his face.

« WAKE UP ! » He yells. « You idiotic morron ! »

Red Robin grunts and weakly pushes back on Robin with his good hand.

« Did you really think you could take on the Joker alone ? » Robin yells again, not really caring that Red Robin is hurt, bleeds from several cuts and that his left side sports some impressive burns now.

« It was... a trap... » Red Robin mutters softly.

« OH YOU THINK ?? »

« Can you stand ? » Red Hood ask, mostly to silence Robin.

« Yeah I think so. »

Red Robin grabs a hold of Red Hood and stand on unsteady feet, wincing when the movement hurts his broken arm. « Thanks. » He says in a breath, his eyes turns toward Robin and it's only at that moment that Batgirl realize that Robin's own suit is burnt on many places, his gloves almost melted on his hands and he spits blood.

She offers him her hand but he frowns at her and stand by himself.

« Joker's gone.» Robin states.

« Not for long. » Red Hood says. « We'll hear of him sooner than later. Let's call the cops, they can clean up the mess... Batgirl... »

« I'll show myself out. » She nods. « Will you be alright ? »

« I'll bring them back home. » Red Hood say half dragging Tim with him across the bodies on the ground.

« I'll meet you there. »

Home means the batcave. Not one of Red Hood safe houses. It's almost a code between them. Even when they no longer live in the Manor, the batcave is still Home.

On her way out she calls Alfred, tells him about chat happened, warns him about some medical procedures that might be needed soon.

He sighs.

« And to say Master Bruce just got on a plane to some faraway island for a little vacation. »

« We handled it Alfred. » Batgirl says. She uses her grapnel to climb up the roof. «He deserves the time off... We can handle this. »

She's not really convinced but she knows her friends, none of them is willing to call batman for help or for cleaning their mess.

They will deal with the Joker one way or another.

 


	3. Eros

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't understand the first thing about Batman's chronology or who died when and how anyone came back to life because I'm not educated enough in this fandom so, bear with my wanky chronology for this chapter ...

_Eros: Greek god of fertility, represent the idea of sexual passion and desire. Dangerous, fiery, and irrational form of love that can take hold of you and possess you._

 

You're never really jet lagged when you are sleep deprived on a daily basis. But Kori manages to be space lagged when she comes back from a mission in Space. It's both cute and annoying because she was already in bed when Dick came back home and now, it's the middle of the night and she's awake and rested and trying to do God knows what in the kitchen which cannot be good news.

« Making cake at two in the morning ? » He asks blinking on the too brightly lit kitchen space.

« There's no right time for baking. » She answers cheerfully before leaning forward to kiss him. Her lips taste like cake batter, one that lacks sugar.

« More sugar. » He suggest. « And you don't need to pre heat the oven two hours beforehand you know. »

She frowns and make a move to turn off the oven but he stops her. « There's a security, if you turn it off now, it won't turn on back untill it's completely cold. »

« Your technology is incomprehensible. » She grunts.

« Ten more years and you'lle be used to it. » He smiles.

It's good to have her back, he missed wrapping his arms around her and resting his head on her breast. « Come back to bed ? Tell me about your mission ? »

They settle back under the covers, on their side, face to face in the dark with just Kori's glowing eyes to light the room. It should feel strange or scary, this green luminous gaze, but Dick finds it comforting. It means she's here and she's safe and he's too. It doesn't happens nearly enough lately.

She tells him about the mission, they laugh at one of Beast Boy lines, he asks about Blue Beetle and Raven, they end up lazily kissing and this could lead to something more if Dick phone did not choose this exact time to ring.

Alfred.

« You really call at the worst times Alfred. » Dick grunts while Kori laughs in the background, settling back on her pillow.

« I apologize for the inconvnience master Dick... But in the absence of master Bruce, you might want to come to the manor and check on young master Tim. »

Dick is on his feet in one second. « What happened ? »

« I'm afraid I don't know much more than you do at the moment. »

« I'm on my way. » Dick says rumaging through his clothes discarded on the floor looking for a shirt and a jacket. « I'm sorry.., »  he says turning back to Kori that looks at him with a concerned expression.

« Call me if you need back up. » She simply says.

He bends forwards to kiss her. « Thanks for understanding. »

Of course she understands. She' been the one to abruptly leave their bed enough time for that. It doesn't make it any less annoying and Dick grumbles and worries the entire time it takes him to reach Wayne Manor on his motorbike, barely remove his helmet when he enters the Batcave.

« What happened ? » he asks.

Tim is on the operating bench looking both in pain and dozed up, and injuried on several places.

« Drake got himself in trouble and had us nearly killed in the process. » Damian spits from his chair. His hands are bandaged but he seems mostly okay. Jason and Barbara are here too, mostly fine.

He turns back to Tim and the X-Ray on the computer and winces. « That is a nasty break. » He says.

« Maybe we should take him to the hospital ? » Alfred pipes. « I can reduce the fracture but I cannot guaranty it will heal properly without medical attention. »

« Good luck explaining that to the ER. » Tim mutters pointing his valid hand to his chest covered in bandages. « Burns. » He says to Dick. « I don't even think the Joker planned this one... »

Dick frowns, turns to Jason. « Joker ? »

Both Jason and Barbara nods. « Tim fell on a trap. Without the demon brat here, he'd probably be dead by now. You know how Joker likes it. Though there was no crowbar involved this time. »

Alfred seems to be waiting for Dick to take a decision and everything Dick want to do is call Bruce and let him deal with this mess.

He sighs.

« Let's reduce this fracture. Tomorrow we'll ask Dr Knopes to look after him. »

« This will hurt master Timothy. » Alfred warns when he wraps his hands around Tim's arm.

« I know. »

It's not the first time there's a cry of agony in the batcave, but it still echoes violently every time, scaring the bats on the ceiling, leaving them all with ringing ears and the soft sound of Tim's sobs to fill the silence after that when Alfred plaster his arm and Barbara makes Tim drink something that tastes bad.

« Trying to drug me ? » Tim asks as snarky as he can.

« Yes. » She says sternly. « You need to rest. »

« Thank you. » he says softly. Before he falls asleep, he turns toward Damian. « I'm sorry. »

« You should be. » Damian spits.

« Thank you for saving me. »

« Don't mention it. » Damian says. He takes a few steps toward Tim and presses his good shoulder. « Told you I'd save you if you drown. But whatever happened Drake. Whatever you did that blurred your judgement enough for you to fall into that stupid trap. It stops now. You hear me ? »

Tim nods, his eyelids flutter a few seconds and he abandons himself to sleep. For a moment, everything is quiet until Dick asks for some explanations.

**_Conner's skin is warm enough to melt snow on his bare arms but he always jumps three feet high when Tim puts his hands under his shirt. Mostly because Tim's hands are always cold unless they're wrapped around a hot beverage ( preferably coffee)._ **

**_They share a bed sometimes and Tim ends up rolled up in the covers and around Conner, his face pressed against his warm skin. There's morning kisses and lazy babbling about what they dream about and how Tim needs coffee like yesterday and laughter._ **

**_Conner gave Tim some heating pads to slip into his gloves during winter time, but out of costume, Tim prefers having his hands flat against the expanse of Conner's back, or his chest, or around his arms, or, even better, trapped between Conner's hands. Sometimes, when he's too sleep deprived and starts to daydream despite himself, he imagines what it would be like if he had the power to drain the warmth out of Conner. Would it make him look dull ? Would he turn grey or blue ? Would he feel it ?_ **

**_This is usually the moment Conner choose to kiss him and gently put him to bed. There's no point in fighting him. Conner would win unless Tim fights dirty, and Tim wouldn't find it in him to hurt the clone._ **

**_They kiss, they rut against each other but it's always the warmth that makes Tim fall asleep._ **

**_When Conner is on mission, or back in Smallville, it's not the same. He sleeps with his fists wrapped around the heating pads. But it's not the same._ ** **_It's barely lukewarm and it doesn't compare to the feeling of sleeping safely next to someone who shines like his personal sun._ **

**_So, when they reunite, Tim presses himself against Conner with all his body. His lips first and he wraps his arms around the broad shoulders of the clone. Then their chests, so close, so tight he can feel both their heartbeats. Then their stomachs, their bellies, where Tim feels like he might explode if he spends too long away from Conner. Then their pelvis and that is another set of sensations, of warmth, of dizziness that should not come with all the rest. It's almost too long before their legs intertwine, too long before they start to caress each other and it takes so long to feed of all these feelings that Tim feels like he'll never have enough._ **

**_You never have enough of what makes you feel alive._ **

The first time Tim wakes up, he cannot move.

His eyes feels big and heavy, his limbs are numb, and his bed is softer than ever. He's been drugged. The good kind of drug. The one that means he's allowed to rest, not the one that screams danger in his head.

For now, the pain is a long gone memory, along with knowledge of time and space and his ability to care. He's only capable to blink at Barbara, sitting in silence at his desk, half turning her back to him, but somehow she manages to see he's awake and smile at him. She mutters something that echoes through his hears like he listens from the bottom of a well, or trapped into a cozy aquarium. He grunts an answer and closes his eyes.

He falls back into a blissful sleep.

##

« So, this is where you hide. » Barbara whispers, sliding next to Jason on the church bench, polished by countless butts.

« Usually no one bothers me here. »

« I can leave. »

«You can stay. »

The morning light filtering through the stained glass cast soft shadows all around them. Sparks of colors on the stone pillars mix with the smell of incense and the whispers of a few visitors. She looks at the altar in front of them, velvet, flowers, tealights, bright golden crosses. It's peaceful, delicate and gracious. Everything their life stopped being the moment they became vigilantes.

« Dr Knopes will see Tim this morning. » Jason mutters, his arms crossed, his eyes stuck on the altar. « Dick will call Bruce. »

« He has too. Bruce is Tim's surrogate. »

« Which gives us a few hours to find the Joker. »

Barbara frowns, turns to him and he smirks.

«Bruce won't let us deal with this case after what happened to Tim. »

« Which is a relief ! » She says. « We need his help. »

« Bruce doesn't help. » Jason says. He finally looks at her. His eyes are hooded, dark and his hair are a mess. « Bruce does things. He takes matters in his own hands. And in this case, there's no way he'll let us be a part of it. »

« Is that such a bad thing ? »

« It is when it's about the Joker and revenge. »

For a moment they both stay quiet as some tourists pass by them then leave the church. Jason takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and brings one to his lips.

« You're not supposed to smoke here. » Barbara says

« I'm waiting for God to strike me. » Jason grunts, opening his arms like he's really waiting for some lightning to come from the ceiling. He lights up the cigarette when nothing happens and smiles at Barbara just to prove her wrong. « The Joker tortured and killed me. » He says like he's clinically stating a fact but she can hear the tiny tremor in his voice. « And Bruce did not avenge me. I know what it feels like to wake up one day and feel betrayed by the ones you love. And I won't let Tim feel that. He will be avenged. »

« We do not kill, Jason. » Barbara says softly. She puts a hand on his arm and he looks at her nails like it's the first time he sees them.

« I don't plan on killing him. Just... » He doesn't finish his sentence. Mostly because he doesn't really have a plan here. Now the air smell like tobacco and the altar lost interest as their voices filled the silence of the church. It's not quiet or peaceful anymore.

« He mourned you, you know. » Barbara says. « Bruce. After your death... he was a wreck. »

« So I've been told. »

« He had a mass for you. It was … It was like he wanted the entire city to mourn his son too. »

« But he did not avenge me. And I still hate him for that. »

« It broke him. » Barbara says softly. « Not killing the Joker, not avenging you, it saved the last part of humanity he had. But it broke him too. »

« So I've been told. »

For a moment it seems like they have nothing more to say on this topic then Barbara speaks again.

« No one avenged me either. »

Jason blinks a few times, trying to piece the info he has together. It takes long enough that he feels bad not to have seen that one coming. Barbara Gordon looks always confident, always on top of her game. With or without her legs, she's the kind of woman who could rule an entire army if she had to.

Which is probably why no one ever considered making the Joker pay for what he did to her. Or rather, everyone wanted to make him pay for hurting them through her, but avenge her ? Jason highly doubt it. And maybe this is just their vision that is biased, but he feels bad that she feels bad. Which is stupid because at that time, he was dead.

He takes her hand in his.

« We do not kill, Barbara. Well... I do but... »

« But killing the Joker won't give us back what he took from us. And it will makes us lose something we can't afford to lose. »

He nods.

« But beating him to a pulp... that would make me feel good. For me, for you, and for what he did to Tim. » She says.

He smirks.

« So tonight, we take our revenge. » He states.

« Tonight we clean the mess we've made. » She corrects.

« Yeah, that too. »

 

##

« I should have been there. » Dick says. He's now sporting a worried and guilty look that Kori has seen countless times.

« It wouldn't have make any difference. » She says sternly. « Tim was there long before any of them judging by how long he's been beaten. »

« I don't understand what happened. » Dick says again. « Some things don't make any sense... »

She puts a hand on his shoulder. The morning is slowly rising, casting shadows on Wayne Manor's lounge. « You'll figure it out. For now, there's not much we can do. »

« I have to call Leslie... ask her to check on Tim. And Bruce... Bruce will want to know what happened. »

« If you call him with partial information he'll be worried for nothing. Call Leslie. Eat. Try to sleep. Talk to Tim. Then call your father. »

He nods. It's good not to be in charge, to have someone take a little of this burden off his shoulder and come up with simple tasks that seem way easier to manage than just answering the question «  what he hell happened ? »

She kisses him on the forehead and press his shoulder.

« They're all okay for now. Work it out from that. They're safe for today. »

They both know tonight is a different story. But she won't let him worry about it just now.

« The only time Bruce isn't here … The only time, they manage to get in trouble. The four of them ... » He grunts defeated.

« You know it's because Bruce would have hold them back if he was there. »

« Yeah. » Dick grunts again. « He always does that … And look what happens when you don't let the kids grow up by themselves ... »

Kori frowns. « Are you blaming him for … Not letting you deal with your troubles all alone ? »

« I'm blaming him for being always here, always on our back, always seeing us as a burden … and when he's not here, we don't know how to function anymore ! I don't know what to do anymore. »

He stood without even realizing it, pacing like an animal from the window to the couch then back to the window. Kori bites her lips like she does when she's pondering if she should say something or not and he can sense her confusion. And her anger.

« Training young people is difficult Dick. » She says softly, way too soft for his liking, like she's trying to be calm enough for the both of them. « They will always blame you for something. For being too much or not enough. For being here or being absent. But working with the Titans taught me that the most important is that in the end, you trained them to survive and be good at what they do. And Batman did that. With all of you. »

« Yeah... Tell that to Tim. »

She sighs and rolls her eyes. « Call doctor Knopes, and stop blaming your father for the things you feel guilty about. We both know it's a bad coping mechanism. »

She leaves the room and he feels like she had slapped him.

She's right and he knows it. He wants to blame Bruce for not being here, he really wants to. He needs to. Because if he doesn't, he'll have to take the blame of what happened last nigh on himself.

He hears murmurs on the corridor and peak through the ajar door, finding the surprising scene of his girlfriend holding Alfred's hand and nodding at something he just said. He retracts into the lounge as the butler enters the room with a tray of breakfast.

"What did she tell you ?" Dick asks. 

Alfred frowns like he's feeling insulted by the mere idea that he could betray Kori's trust by revealing their conversations. 

"Nothing that I feel like sharing, master Dick. But maybe you should be more careful when you complain about master Bruce that it's not to someone who lost her entire family and entire world."

##

 

The second time Tim wakes up, it's morning. He can move and there's a ray of sun spilling through the curtains. Damian is curled on a chair, his back to the light, one of his big sketchbooks balanced on his raised knees, seemingly unaware that Tim is awake.

« How long did I sleep ? » Tim asks. His voice is raspy, his throat hurts and he extends his good hand toward a glass of water waiting for him on the bedside table. He can feel his body now, which is not an improvement because there's an aftertaste of pain everywhere including on his tongue and behind his eyelids.

« Not long enough. » Damian retorts raising his head from his drawing.

« Are you drawing me ? »

Damian clicks his tongue and hands him the sketchbook. No one dares touching them or looking at them without his express permission. They have a strange notion of boundaries and personal space with Alfred cleaning their rooms monthly, and Bruce bugging everything including their suits, and having seen each other almost die countless time. But there are unspoken rules that never get broken. No one looks at Damian's drawings if he doesn't allow it. No one gets on private laptops. No one eats Dick's cereals. No one wears Jason's jackets. There are rules and it's an honor to have Damian's sketchbook handed to him.

He drew Tim in various stages of sleeping. Mostly wrapped in his duvet like a burrito wearing a dark wig. There's sketches of his bruises too. Practices of his bandages. Doodles all around the paper.

« I'm better at landscapes. And you look like crap. » Damian says.

The drawings are like tiny shards of a shattered mirror that would each show a piece of his stupidity. And what it's currently costing him. Tim gives the sketchbook back and ignores the painkillers Damian hands him. The younger shrugs and puts the pills on the nightstand.

« You'll want them soon. »

He's right, but for now, Tim wants to feel his body. His brain is still a little foggy.

« What happened Drake ? »

Tim doesn't answer, closes his eyes, prays it's enough for Damian to leave him alone. But of course it's not. The little brat is stubborn. That's something that runs in the family.

« You did not fall into that stupid trap. » Damian says again. « You jumped right into it. And I can't help you if I don't know why. »

« Then don't help me. » Tim says sharply. He turns his back to Damian even if it hurts to move and to breathe now. He wraps the cover around him as best as he can and doesn't say anything else.

Damian is still here when Tim falls asleep once again listening to his soft breathing and the sound of his pen on the paper.

**_It's mostly Conner who brings out the uncomfortable questions and Tim who's supposed to supply the answers. It's like teaching sex ed to a petulant 3 years old and it's awkward and sometimes Tim has no clue what Conner is talking about._ **

**_Which leads to various google searches he was not prepared for, and watching porn with his boyfriend._ **

**_And Conner might not have been prepared to watch porn with Tim. Tim and his frowny face. Tim and his focus so sharp the clone can almost hear him take notes in his heads above the sound of the film playing on the screen._ **

**_« It's porn Tim. It's supposed to turn you on, not make you write a thesis about how incoherent it is ! »_ **

**_Tim blinks a few times like he comes back from a faraway kingdom where porn movies actually have a plot._ **

**_« This is false advertising. » Tim retorts crossing his arms. « No one can last that long without medication, I refuse to believe it ! »_ **

**_Conner grins and Tim rolls his eyes. « You're about to try to prove me wrong don't you ? »_ **

**_« Nope. » Conner says. He wraps an arm around Tim's hips and pulls him until Tim is sitting on top of him. « When you're involved, I'm lucky if I last ten minutes. »_ **

**_Tim smiles and kisses him, porn noises forgotten on the background. « The worst part is that this awfully cheesy line will get you exactly what you want Superboy. »_ **

**_« I'm so lucky my boyfriend has low standards. »_ **

##

Clark's trunks are the kind of bright colorful surfer shorts that floofs around his hips like two tiny parachutes when he enters the water and it makes the reporter laugh a little. Bruce smirks, allowing himself a quick glance over his phone screen before returning at his emails. He's not getting into the water and made it pretty clear that if Clark decides to throw him into the ocean, he won't like the consequences so Clark does his swimming alone when Bruce lays on a beach recliner under a sun umbrella and layers of white linen.

Alfred did the packing because Bruce did not even know he owned that much white linen but everyone knows the distaste in Alfred's look every time someone strolls on the sun wearing anything else than this damn fabric.

It's soft anyway, and nice to wear under the sun. Bruce doesn't like the sun, but he's here to indulge Clark so he keeps quiet and blinks at his emails, typing as fast as possible to answer some of Lucius concern.

He's so engrossed in work that he doesn't hear Clark come back, only feels the sun disappear above his head, the smell of salt and a few drops landing on his screen and his thumb.

« You're supposed to rest and have fun. » Clark says. He's literally blocking the sun and dripping on Bruce but he's close enough that Bruce can see him smile. It's a contagious trait and he fights really hard not to smile too.

« You're supposed to know me better than that. »

Clarks lips curl some more and hover over him before closing on his. They're salty of course, and cold and wet and he feels Clark's hair dripping on his shirt that clings on his skin at random spots. It's a kiss that manages to be playful, intense and chaste at the same time and leaves Bruce with a twist in his chest that has nothing to do with the fact that Clark's cold hands are currently exploring his chest under his shirt.

« If someone sees us, every media in the world including the ones I own will call you my boy toy and we can't... »

« Expose me that much. I know. » Clark says. He steps away from Bruce and wraps himself in a towel then sits on the second recliner, the one that's drenched in sunlight away from the umbrella. « That's why I checked the entire island. The only living things in here besides us are the fishes and the birds. »

Bruce smirks and puts his phone back in his pocket. « So, your definition of fun is taking me to the other side of the world to give me sunburn. »

« Give us sunburn. » Clark corrects raising his left hand. He's wearing the blue kryptonite bracelet which explains why his hands are cold.

He wears it much more than Bruce expected him to. Mostly because the feeling is nice according to Clark. That's something Bruce cannot understand. How can someone want to feel the cold ? How can someone want to experience what it's like to hurt when you have the chance to never feel pain ? The rational part of him knows it's because it's new, because Clark was never a human despite his best efforts and it makes him feel like he belongs when he doesn't have superpowers. But the part of Bruce that's led by emotions rebels against this idea. If he knew of something that would allow him not to feel like a broken skeleton every day, he would use it all the time.

« We can go back to Gotham if you feel uncomfortable. » Clark says. Even with the bracelet, he doesn't blink on the sun when he looks at Bruce. « I though it would be easier for you to let go if you were away for a couple of days. »

« Let go of what ? »

« Yourself. » Clark says softly.

Bruce doesn't say anything, he just presses Clark hand and blinks slowly, like Alfred the cat when he's about to fall asleep on someone's lap. And he keeps his eyes on their entwined hands. Clark's one, unscarred, perfect and still damp, and his one, rougher, jarred with little scars, barely emerging from the long sleeve of his custom made shirt.

Strangely different and perfectly assorted under the sun that makes his scars glint like the water on Clark's skin.

 

##

« I'll go check up on Tim before Damian murders him. »

Kori nods nods, turns back to her computer screen where she's typing a report about the Titan's last mission. On the left side of the screen, Dick catches a glimpse of a police news feed. She'll keep an eye on it in case there's word of any activity leading them to the Joker. But Dick knows by experience that he's gonna play low for a few more hours at least. He also knows she's giving him the silent treatment until he admits that he had no reason to be angry at Bruce for not being here. Which means they probably won't talk until all of this is over. Which sucks because he missed her and there's nothing in the world that seems more appealing than cuddling with her and talk to her until he falls asleep on her lap. But that, like many other things, will have to wait.

Tim is not in bed when he knocks at the door and it's Damian who grunts something that Dick takes as an invitation to enter.

« He's under the shower. I swear to you if he drowns, I'm not carrying him out of there ! » Damian says. He seems tired and pissed of. « He refused the painkillers. »

« He's probably still high from yesterday. »

« Eighteen hours later ? What the hell do you people take ? »

« Depends. Sometimes it's not entirely legal and we have to ask Jason for refills. »

Damian wrinks his nose like it's a disgusting discovery.

« He's not himself. » The kid finally say. « But he will not talk to me. »

« I'll try my best. » Dick promise and Damian gives him a look so solemn that they might have signed a contract only by this silent agreement.

« Todd and Gordon plan on taking the Joker down tonight. »

« They know where he is ? »

Damian shakes his head « It's the Joker. He'll find us. And I'll be there. »

There's anger in his eyes. A fury that was a little less visible lately and it make Dick's heart clench in is chest. It took a long time, and countless efforts to make Damian open up a little. And in the last eighteen hours, he shut down almost completely. Dick wonders if he was this sensitive at his age ? Did he hide it that much ? Did he have that much of an armor around his feelings when he was fourteen ?

« You don't have to … I'll go and ... »

« That was not a request Grayson. I'll be there. The Joker hurt my family, I hurt him back. »

« This is useless Dami. » Dick says. He crouches so he's eye level with the younger Wayne. « The joker doesn't see things like that. He doesn't care about consequences or being hurt ... »

« Maybe. And maybe I don't care. Maybe I see it as my duty to avenge my family. »

« So, Tim is family now ? »

Damian shrugs. « An adopted relative and a burden. But family anyway. » And with that, he's gone and Dick makes a mental note to turn on the tracker on his costume because he'll have to find him later in the evening. But for now, Tim needs ….

Good god he would give everything in the world to have a single clue about what Tim needs.

Tim is awake and able to move for the first time since what feels like forever and he looks at himself in the mirror that he wiped clean with his good hand and that is already fogging up again. His chest is covered in wet bandages that cling to his burnt skin, red, oozing a little blood and plasma, he doesn't dare picking at the little specks of flesh that are about to fall off him like he's a snake changing skin.

His face is swollen, bruised like on Damian's sketch.

His hair are a mess. His eyes are puffy and red. His cast is already dirty. He feels like crap and looks the same. Drying himself is tricky and painful. Putting on more than a sweatpants is nearly impossible and he knows his bandages need to be fixed, some antiseptic might be needed too.

Dick is here when he comes back to his room, handing him a fluffy bathrobe. Tim thanks him, his voice is a raspy murmur, it's a muffled sound that would sound less strange coming from a sick cat and suddenly he has Dick's arms wrapped around him and his brother's head above his, whispering over and over again that it's okay to cry, that it's okay to hurt, that he understands and it's okay... it's okay...

But Tim can't cry. Not now, not yet. So he clutches at Dick's back and nods over and over again, trying to imprint the words in his heart and his soul. « It's okay to feel bad. It's okay. »

Maybe he's almost ready to believe it. Not yet but soon.

##

Clark got a sunburn. The first of his life and it would be hilarious if it wasn't painful.

« You can fly right through the sun but you swim for a mile with this thing on your arm and you look like Barry's suit. » Bruce says behind him, massaging some cold cream on his burnt back.

« Please never mention it to him, or Hal …They might die of laughing. »

« This is a very valid reason to mention it to them as soon as possible. » Bruce says humorless. His hands feel huge on Clark's sensitive back, and stronger than he reminds them to be even if he tries to be gentle.

The little (Clark has to cough every time he thinks of this place as little ) villa faces the sunset on the beach and Clark is standing on the big glass door leading to the balcony of their room.

« You'd have to tell them about our romantic escapade and you'll be in as much trouble as I am if they survive the shock. Plus extra shifts at the watchtower. »

« Your secret is safe for now. »

Clark can hear Bruce smile without even looking at him and it warms his heart.

« It's the first time the sun burns you isn't it ? »

Clark nods and Bruce's fingers trace mindless patterns on his back.

« Your skin is beautiful. »

« You know, cheesy pick up lines are useless with me right ? »

« Not trying to get into your pants Kent. » Bruce corrects. « Just... » His hands keep massaging the remains of the cream on Clark's back like Bruce is trying some form of auto hypnosis and Clark doesn't dare moving. « There's a saying about skin as soft as a baby's... but yours is not. It's just … perfect. »

Clark doesn't say anything, he doesn't care about the praise, never thought about his skin before. But Bruce's voice has an undertone that he never heard and that squeezes him on the inside. He doesn't know if he likes that feeling or not but he leans a little agains Bruce hands then his chest. He smells like hotel shampoo and sea salt.

« You never had a scar in your life. Not even the one you get after some vaccine. Not even the ones you get when you scratch at your zits when you're a teenager. I bet you never even got acne. »

« I was a lucky boy. » Clark smiles.

« More than lucky. » Bruce says, this time, he wraps his arms around Clark's belly, his warm torso against the kryptonian's back. « You were blessed. You never hurt. I envy you. »

« What is it like ? » Clark asks. He struggles to turn into Bruce arms, they're too close for their noses not to bump into each other, for their lips not to brush against each other. «I see your skin. I saw it in more details than most humans can do without a microscope. I know everyone of your scars, and still I can't imagine what it's like. » His hands are on Bruce face, nails grazing on fine lines and rough two days beard that he's only able to really feel when he wears the bracelet. The little irritation that comes after touching it too much, and how he can't stop caressing Bruce's jaws over and over until his hands are too sensitives or Bruce loses patience. He's not used to pain. His sunburn is unpleasant but not unbearable. What is unbearable pain ? Bruce must know that. And he probably kept fighting through it. 

« You don't want to know. »

« I want to know you. »

« You know me. »

Yes, Clark knows him. Knows when he's in a bad state. Knows how to read between his lines. Knows how to helps him, how to carry him and when Bruce needs to be left alone.

They know each other to the point that they trust each other. They both made it into this very short list in the other's life. And still Clark wants more.

« But I don't understand what you feel. »

« You're blessed then. »

They kiss and Bruce hands are on his back, pressing painfully on the burnt skin, making Clark moan against his lips, taking control of the kiss and Clark is vaguely aware that he's removing his bracelet, but he doesn't care.

The pain on his back fades, along with the feeling of Bruce's stubble against his cheeks. He's able to hear Bruce's heart now, to smell the detergent of the sheets on the bed, to hear insects buzzing on the patio.

And Bruce still has his hands on his back, like he's trying to feel the skin regenerate under his fingers.

« I'm blessed to have you. » He says softly, his eyes closed, his features more relaxed than Clark has seen them in a long time.

He lets Clark push him on the bed, lets him open his shirt and trace his scars with his hands, his eyes, his lips. The older ones, nearly invisible now, faded or under more recent bruises. The healed ones, a net of fine white lines all over his body, the places where the hair won't grow anymore on his legs, the patches of scar tissue that don't have the same texture as the rest of him.

No one looks at them. Not even Bruce. No one but Clark is allowed to witness this. The scars left by fire, where the skin melted and never regenerated like it was before. The newer scars, traces of pink on his skin, some of them still swollen. The bruises that are an ugly rainbow all over him. This is the most secret part of him. The part that no mask can hide, the part that says way too much about who is Batman and what is Bruce Wayne. The part that Bruce himself is afraid to look at.

Because it reminds him that he's only a rich dude hanging with semi gods. They're blessed and he's just... bruised... most of the time.

But Clark looks at him without the ugly perverted fascination that Bruce used to see in the eyes of his various hookups, long before he decided to always have sex in the dark. When Clark sees scars, he sees only what happens to humans when life is too hard on them, he sees something he'll never understand and Bruce feels like he's the subject of a very cheerful scientific.

Clark sees skin and scars, not traces of an insane life. ( Or maybe he does ?)

Clark sees skin and scars, not bad memories, not traumas. (Or maybe he does ?)

Clark can see through his skin and scars and not see only the traces of old broken bones. He can see the man under the skin. He can see something that Bruce himself, most of the time, forgets to look at.

He can see behind the mask. All the masks.

And yes, Bruce think as he kisses Clark one more time, he's truly blessed to have him.

Clark think they're both blessed to have each other.

##

**_They agree that their first time was the first time they came together. Tim astride on top of Conner, both with their hand on the other's cock, and kissing, caressing, ruting against each other until they came in their pants like teenagers._ **

**_They were teenagers. They were in love._ **

**_If anyone but them had known about them, maybe someone could have see the signs that things started to fall apart. But no one knew and it made them feel even better._ **

**_Until_ ** **_one night, they had a close call. Conner had a close call and Tim lost it._ **

**_Conner never felt Tim so eager to kiss him, his fist clenched painfully in his hair, pushing him, pulling him toward the bed and saying over and over again « Don't you die on me Kent … Don't you dare ! »_ **

**_« I'm alive ! » Conner finally says. Tim is short, light, but when he fights, when he's angry, it takes more than average human force to make him still. « I'm fine ! » He says when he finally manage to trap Tim securely in his arms. « I'm fine ! »_ **

**_« You could have died ! »_ **

**_« I'm fine ! » Conner grunts, his patience wearing thin._ **

**_But in his arms, Tim is still struggling, still raking his nails against Conner's torso, still afraid. No. Not afraid Conner realize. Terrified. He hooks a finger under Tim's chin to raise his head. « I'm very hard to kill Tim. Why are you so worried ? »_ **

**_Tim doesn't say anything but his lips are a fine line, and without Conner's telekinesis, his nails would have drawn blood by now._ **

**_« Why are you so worried ? » Coner asks again. Because he's stubborn, especially when it comes to Tim keeping secrets from him._ **

**_« Because I love you you fucking idiot ! »_ **

**_Thinking about it, that was a perfectly logic answer by human standards but it left Conner a little unsettled._ **

**_« And I've lost enough loved ones for a lifetime. » Tim adds softly._ **

**_He barely notice Conner lifting him in his arms and he next thing he knows, they're settled on the hay of what must be the Kent Barn._ ** **_It's dark and warm ( that might be because Conner is wrapped around him), and the hay itches and its smell makes Tim smile._ **

**_« Are we about to have make up sex on the hay ? Really farm boy of you Kon. »_ **

**_« We have nothing to make up for. » Conner says next to his hear. His voice is warmer, calm and firm. « We were not fighting. »_ **

**_« You almost died. »_ **

**_« And you were scared and angry. I get that. I feel the same every time something happens during one of your mission. »_ **

**_Tim doesn't answer that and in the dark, Conner can't read his face, but he doesn't have to. He just pulls him closer, wraps his legs around Tim's waist and murmurs in his hear « I swear I won't die anytime soon. I'm not leaving you Tim. I swear. »_ **

**_« Staying alive is not up to us lately. » But Tim feels less tense in his arms, more responsive to his caresses too._ **

**_« I'll try my best. »_ **

**_And somewhere during the night, as they actually make love in the hay ( they both laughed at how cliche it is, but do it anyway), they exchange words of love none of them would dare repeating on daylight._ **

**_This is their official second first time._ **

##

 

Selina frowns, rummaging through her safe. A few gemstones, two jewelry boxes, important papers, expensive stolen tech and four tiny bottles of pink liquid.

Four of them, not the five she kept after Ivy was sent back to Arkham.

She mutters a curse under her breath that attracts one of her cats. She rubs the feline behind the ears.

« He's really gonna kill me this time. » She says to no one in particular even if the cat seem really attentive.

The number of persons who could steal from her is so low that the pieces of the puzzle clicks themselves and she groans again. « These kids will kill me one day. » She says to the cat. «  And they're not even mine ! »

Only Tim and Damian came to her apartment lately. Both of them have the skills and ability to force her safe without her noticing. But Damian is kinda immune to Ivy's toxin mixed with the Scarecrow one. The one she used to trigger the worst fear ever in bad men, a few months ago. The one she swore got totally destroyed after that.

Of course she lied and kept some for herself. A cat lady can always use some more weapon and she learnt from Batman to be a little paranoid about her own safety. Everybody knew. This is a sort of status QUO that makes this partnership work. As long as no one asks, everyone can pretend that no one knows. Kate Kane hates this. She's blunt and honest beyond everything that Selina will ever be. Kate hates this rule of «  don't ask, don't tell » that got her expelled from wespoint. But Selina lives by it. It creates a shadow where she can be unseen and live her life.

Until a robin comes out of his damn batcave and makes something stupid because this is what these kids seem to do better. Tim is especially good at it and the only thing she doesn't get is why ?

Why would he steal the toxin from her ? Well that's easy. Batman trained him. What Catwoman sees as a useful weapon, Robin sees as a useful weapon. And they might be partners in exposing violent husbands to the world, she's still on the wrong side of the law as far as this family is concerned. A weapon in her hands is a threat they need to be prepared for. She's not even surprised.

But why would he use it on himself ?

By accident ? No. Tim is not clumsy.

Curiosity ? No. Tim is not stupid.

So why ?

She sits in front of the open safe, petting the cats that come in and out of the big metallic box purring, and thinks for a long time without finding an answer. But when she dials Bruce's private number, she's certain of one thing: Tim got exposed to the toxin and this might explain … a lot about his latest behavior.

Another thing is certain and Bruce states it with a voice colder than ice.

« It would be wise of you not to cross my path in the near future. »

It hurts because lately they had found a nice common ground. It hurts because he holds her responsible for whatever is happening to Tim. And it hurts because he's right.

She swears again and flops down on the carpet surrounded by cats.

This situation sucks.

##

 

Bruce is frozen to the bones when Clark puts him down on the garden of Wayne manor.

They left the minute Dick then Selina called, Clark carrying Bruce curled in a ball in his arms because flying back home in a plane was not an option, they had to be fast and no one is faster than Superman.

But a twenty minutes flight at high speed means twenty minutes at sub zero even if Bruce was grasping at Clark's unusually hot body.

His limbs tremble, he can't feel his toes nor his fingers and his lips hurt like hell. None of that stops him from tumbling into the manor and climbing the stairs to Tim's room as fast as he can on his wobbly legs.

« How's he ? » He asks seeing Dick closing the door behind him. The young man frowns at him.

« Depressed. » He says coldly. « Something you'd know if you were here to take care of him. »

Bruce frowns, his hand curl around the rail of the stair and it hurts because he's so cold, or because he did it with more force than intended.

« What does that mean ? »

« It means that you're constantly on our backs, constantly Bruce ! » Dick yells. «  Except when one of us needs you ! Tim has been worse every day for weeks now, and what did you do ? Took a little vacation to Hawaii ? »

« Don't put the blame on me Dick ! I couldn't know he would …. »

« You know everything. » Dick interrupts him. « That's your thing. You knew he was not okay. You knew and you let him endanger his life ! »

He storms past a very confused and upset Bruce, heads down the stairs and almost bumps into Clark, wearing casual clothes, hair ruffled and brows furrowed.

« Don't be too hard on him. » Clark says gently.

« Right, because no one gets angry at the guy you fuck except you isn't it ? » Dick spits.

The sound of the slap echoes in the hallway.

Clark controlled his force, it hurts but Dick has been through much worse in his life. It's mostly humiliating to be slapped like a teenager. He clenches his fists and his teeth, his stance slips into his default fighting one and Clark lays his eyes on him, like a disappointed father, slightly amused that a child might want to fight him. And he's upset too.

« Be angry all you want Dick. » He says coldly. « But what happens between Bruce and me is none of your business and has nothing to do with Tim. Whatever judgement you have about us, keep it to yourself until it's relevant. Do I make myself clear ? »

« Crystal. » Dick grunts.

Clarks doesn't move as the young man pass by him heading to the batcave. Bruce still stands at the top of the stairs, he seems tired, still shivering and lost.

« I'll ask Alfred for something warm. » Clark mutters.

Tim is sitting at his desk, facing an untouched tray of food surrounded by papers, pens, half read books and his laptop. It's the first time Bruce sees this device turned off, and this is stranger than Tim's bruised face or his cast or the empty eyes he turns to him.

« What happened son ? » Bruce asks crouching next to Tim's chair so he's a little shorter than him, raising his hand toward his bruised jaw.

« I fell into a trap. » Tim says. He shivers at Bruce's touch and his eyes fill with tears. «I'm sorry. »

« Sorry for what ? » Bruce asks.

Bruce with sunkissed skin and worry in his eyes. Bruce with the soft voice he uses only with little kids and when one of them is badly injured. Bruce who just called him « son », that word he uses only when he's really worried or really proud. And pride is not an option right now. It makes Tim want to disappear. There's a lump in his throat and he hates that he spent so much time crying lately.

« Sorry for what ? » Bruce asks again. « For being alive ? For surviving this ? » His hand is on Tim's cast now. « For fighting the Joker ? For being brave ? What are you sorry about Tim ? »

« I fell into a trap. A stupid trap. »

« I fell into countless traps. » Bruce says softly. «Most of the times I escaped only thanks to one of you. What are you sorry about ? »

Tim bites his lips and doesn't answer.

« You don't fall into traps Tim. You're smarter than that. Either you wanted to be hurt or your judgement was clouded. »

Tim closes his eyes and shivers once more, he's losing it, he's going to cry again. He could manage if Bruce yelled at him, he could manage Bruce giving him a stern look and a cold stare, but his kindness... everyone's kindness is unbearable.

« What happened Tim ? » Bruce asks one last time. He wraps an arm around Tim, careful not to hurt him. « I need to know. We need to know before it kills you. »

Tim hides his face in the white linen of Bruce's shirt, thankful that he can pretend that it's because of the pain. Pretend that Bruce is scary enough to keep whatever is eating at Tim away.

« How long has it been this bad ? »

« Dunno. It feels like forever. »

And there's nothing more Tim can say. There is no word to exactly describe what he feels. He feels numb despite the throbbing pain in all his body. He feels cold despite the burns on his skin. He feels hollow but there's always a lump in his throat, always something eating his insides like a stomach bug. And his mind... His mind is a mixture of blank canvas and dark toughs, a void that only gets filled by bad memories, bad toughs, doubts and insecurities that go on and on like a train wreck and Tim can do nothing except take it and not say a word about it.

Saying it would make it more real. More stupid. More self destructive and Tim cannot do that.

It would be like admitting how bad he needs help. And scare his entire family a little more. All of these people who watches over him, have done it for so long... and still it's not enough to make him feel loved and accepted. Telling them how bad he feels would make him a needy child. An insecure and selfish person who cannot function without the constant reminder of his self worth and... and here comes the dark toughs again.

But Tim might be in pain right now, he might feel like the world is crumbling under his feet, but he's not a selfish ungrateful brat.

So he cries on Bruce's shirt and doesn't expain what he can't actually understand himself. His mind is clouded and blind and it's good to have his father not saying a word, just rocking him untill he falls asleep again.

##

**_Who died this time ?_ **

**_Conner doesn't know anymore. It seems like everyday there's a new threat, a new monster, some new villain and no time for happiness anymore. Not time to actually take time and enjoy things._ **

**_And for months they've been acting like they can deal with it._ **

**_Who died this time ?_ **

**_Who was the one death that made Tim lose control over everything he had inside him ? Conner doesn't know and doesn't care actually. But he remembers that night with a bad aftertaste. The same type of aftertaste you get after a sip of your favorite beverage where your mother hid disgusting medicine because she knows you wouldn't take them any other way._ **

**_Martha Kent does that sometimes and he, himself did it on multiple occasions when Tim refused to take painkillers._ **

**_He remembers the first time they made love that night. It was a desire led by relief. It was both their body remembering that they were alive and healthy and in love. He remembers the words he said, the ones Tim said and the moment where their hearts started to beat at the same rhythm._ **

**_No one knows about them. No one knows that they're cuddlers and that sometimes, Tim wants to be the big spoon. It's funny because Conner is taller than him, but it's good to have Tim behind him, to curl in his embrace and feel his breath on his neck._ **

**_It's during one of these times that they discovered that when Conner didn't use his telekinesis, he was almost oversensitive. And God knows they used that knowledge. But that night, Tim is just ghosting the tip of his nails on the inside of Conner's arms. It makes the clone shiver, feel almost like a fresh breeze on his skin. He could stay like that until he falls asleep. He's not usually the one with insomnia, but this, the light touches of Tim on his bare skin is enough to lull him to sleep every time. Or it can turn him on like crazy. Tim analyzed it once. How much pressure makes Conner go from soft and sleepy to horny, what points are his most sensitives ones, how long would it take..._ **

**_Who died this time ? Whose loss led him to that ?_ **

**_Who cares ?_ **

**_The second time is more desperate. It's mostly harsh words between two lovers too afraid to lose each other to be tender anymore. Because their life doesn't allow it that often. So, at times, they need the reminder that their bond has to be tougher than every villain, stronger than any monster. And it comes with grunts and bites and wrestling on the bed and bruising kisses. And Conner cannot honestly say this is not one of the hottest things he ever experienced. Because Tim is a fury when he wants to be dominant, and sometimes, Conner likes to let go. Because they trust each other enough to show to the other a part of them that no one else gets to witness._ **

**_It's real and it's raw and Conner couldn't explain it._ **

**_He read about it, about sexuality, about love, about the brain's chemistry, about hormones, about pretty much everything . And nothing gave him any answer, any indication about what makes them so different when they're together. What do they share that makes them whisper filthy words of love and possession as they come together ?_ **

**_Long ago, he taught himself ancient greek because some modern words did not make sense for him. He still remembers all the words they had for love. One of them was Eros. They even had a god named like that. A word and a god for sexual attraction._ **

**_Nights like these can only be explained like Eros himself touched them._ **

**_Who died this time ?_ **

**_Who cares ?_ **

**_How did they manage to screw things up that much ?_ **

**_The third time, it's not making love anymore. They're beyond exhausted, they should shower, the bedsheet are long gone. But Tim doesn't stop. Blame it on their stamina, their youth, an hormonal imbalance, whatever, but Tim doesn't stop caressing him in all the perfect places and at that point Conner sees no objection in doing it one more time._ **

**_He's so in love there is probably nothing Tim can do to him that wouldn't make him come. Every filthy or depraved thing he can think of, he's up to it as long as Tim is involved. Because Tim is perfect._ **

**_This is lust talking, he knows it the moment he says it, but Tim grins and kisses him once more. Their lips are chapped for being bitten so much, it tingles, it hurts a little and they both like it more than they probably should._ **

**_They usually talk when they make love. « Talk to me. » "how does it feel ? » « Do that again » « I love you », but not this time._ **

**_This time it's their body surrendering to their emotions, it's the fear they push back that comes back and makes Tim bite him like he wants to mark Conner. It's the frustration that makes Conner leave the mark of his hands on Tim's hips and pull him on his cock harder and faster than he would normally do._ **

**_He remembers the exact moment he realized that this was not a normal situation._ **

**_He remembers wondering if they had been exposed to a form of sex pollen or something._ **

**_But they haven't._ **

**_This is just a part of them that shows only when they're past both their breaking point. When none of them is fine. When they cannot pull each other of their own dark place._ **

**_Who died this time ?_ **

**_And everytime Conner thinks about it, he has to admit that it's their relationship that died that night._ **

**_So he doesn't think about it._ **

**_Ever._ **

 

##

« I need to say it out loud. » Batgirl states. « It's scary how fast you found him. »

They're posted on a rooftop from where they have a correct view on the Joker's temporary headquarter. The building he invested used to be a nice one but it's currently empty because it needs a lot of renovations. This is probably one of his ancient safehouses because it's already furnished in this hideous style that only a psychopath could pull together. And that opinion comes from Jason who would fight to death anyone threatening to throw away his old couch that he found in the streets years ago.

« To find the Joker, you just have to think like the Joker. »

« That's scarier. »

Red Hood smirks and lits a cigarette.

« This is probably another trap. » He says casually.

« It is. » She says looking down at a little tablet on her wrist. « The building is full of ugly bad guys waiting for us. And hidden traps and weapons. »

Red Hood looks at her, frowning and she shrugs.

« To defeat the Joker, you need to think like Batman. » Batgirl says showing him the scan she just did of the building. 

« You do that and I'll do … me. »

« Deal » she smiles.

« And what do we do ? » Nightwing's voice ask behind them, making Red Hood almost jump out of his skin.

« Stop doing that ! » He yells.

« Doing what ? » Nightwing smirks and Red Hood entertains for a few seconds the though of throwing him off the roof.

« Appearing from the shadows without a sound like you're godamn Batman himself ! »

« If I was Batman you'd already be out of this plan. »

« You don't know the plan. »

« Then explain it to me. » Nightwing says with this insufferable tones he gets when he thinks he outsmarted someone. Behind him, Starfire rolls her eyes and mutters something that doesn't seem nice.

« You two had a fight ? » Red Hood ask as they stand side by side on the roof.

« NO » they both answer too quickly to be honest. But the sharpness in their tones is a clear indicator not to push it. So Batgirl and Red Hood explain their plan.

« But this included only the two of us, we'll have to change it a little now that we're four. »

« Five. » Robin's voice says from above them. Once again Red Hood almost falls from the roof because this damn kid is as silent as a fucking ninja ! (Yes he was raised by ninjas but this is no excuse to frighten people !)

« Six. » Catwoman adds next to the kid. And another silent one...

« Is this a conspiracy ? » Red Hood asks. « How many more will come to my secret gathering ? »

Catwoman smiles. She's the only one whose eyes are visible and she seems … sad.

« Neither Batman or Superman will show. » She says softly. « Unless something turns horribly wrong. »

« And they sent their kitty cat to spy on us ? » Nightwing spits.

She frowns and Red Hood can see her muscles tense under the leather of her catsuit.

« Be careful what you say nightbird. » She growls. « I might decide I want a piece of your pretty face on my wall. »

« She's here to help. » Robin says sternly. « Then she'll disappear. »

«And you believe that ? » Nightwing mocks. « I've known you smarter Robin. »

Robin crosses his arms, not moving an inch from his spot and tilts his head. « I've known you with a clearer judgement Nightwing. But I'll admit it's not something that happens frequently. »

« What does that mean ? » Nightwing grunts.

« That you're useless to us if you're here only to prove that you can watch over us when Batman doesn't do it. »

It's Batgirl who spoke and Nightwing turns to her like she just hit him.

« I'm not ... »

« Yes you are. » Red Hood says. « And you're doing it mostly to prove a point to him. But some of us are here to avenge Tim. »

« I'm here for the Joker ! » Nightwing says.

« And we're here for our brother. » Robin says way too softly. «But you can stay. You can be useful. »

« You little. ... » His insult gets stuck in Nightwing's throat when Starfire presses her hand on his arm.

« You can fight each other later. I'm here to put the Joker back in Arkham, what about you Nightwing ? » She asks and her tone is cold like she's a teacher and Nightwing is just an annoying student. This is not good news Red Hood thinks. Nightwing's fighting skills depend a lot of his mental state and having a fight with his girlfriend just before attacking the Joker's HQ is not what will bring out the best of him. Unless Starfire gets shot and then Nightwing could take down the entire building with his bare hands. 

There is a second of silence and everyone can see the change in Nightwing's posture. It's something strange to look at, the way he physically pushes his grief at the back of his mind and focus on the task at hand.

It's at that moment that the puzzle starts to make sense for Red Hood. The little details that no one talks about and that become bigger and bigger until it's a real problem no one in this damn family knows how to deal with. 

He lets Batgirl explaining the initial plan and watches absent mindlessly as Nightwing takes his natural place as the leader of the team and quickly reorganize them. He makes a mental note of the things he has to say to Dick later... maybe around a plate of pancakes... And he realizes everybody is looking at him.

« Sorry, I fell asleep when Birdie was talking … what did I miss ? »

Nightwing sighs.

« We're doing a Budapest. Batgirl, Starfire and me, then Catwoman, then you and Robin. »

Red Hood smiles. « Oh we're introducing the cat and the baby bat to the Budapest ? »

« Can we stop naming it that way ? » Batgirl asks rolling her eyes. 

« I'm down for calling it an orgy. » Red Hood says with a smile.

Nightwing grunts and hides his face in his hands. "It was not an orgy and you know it !"

« Is there a translation available for the few of us who never had sex with Nightwing ? » Robin asks with a tone of complete annoyance. 

« We attack by waves. » Red Hood say gently. «  Everytime someone is down, the next in line takes its place. »

Robin nods.

« Clever. » He states. « It explains a lot of inside jokes about Dick and ... »

« STOP ! » Nightwing interrupts. « Please, stop … Just... stick to the plan okay ? »

« Yeah because sticky is what we're looking for ... »

If looks could kill, Red Hood would be a dead man by now.

Oh, wait, been there, done that.

He sees his sidekicks, his family, jump into the Joker's living room and he watches the fight. Standing still as Nightwing gets taken down and Catwoman jumps into action is difficult, but finally, finally it's time and just before starting to fight, he looks at Robin.

They exchange a smirk.

They're here for the same thing.

And its nice, for once, not to be alone.

##

 

« You took the right decision » Clark says gently.

The batcave is only lit by the computers screens that makes Bruce look like a vampire even without the cowl.

« I know. They're usually the hardest to take. »

His hands are resting on his knees, his eyes glued at the CCTV on the screen. The trackers of every suit has been disconnected for hours and he did nothing to track them. He did nothing to stop Damian from going out. He put on Batman's suit but did not go out after them.

Batman can take a lot of things, do a lot of things humans are not supposed to be capable of. But not knowing something, or purposely forcing himself to ignore things is one of his harder tasks.

He does it on a daily basis and no one notice. It's sometimes infuriating to try so hard for so little recognition.

Not bugging Dick's apartment is a fight against himself everytime something happens in Bludhaven.

He bugged Tim's apartment once and Tim made it clear that this was not tolerable. It was the first time one of his kids sounded like the father teaching him about privacy and consent.

Forcing himself to keep ignoring what Damian does when he goes on patrol alone.

Trying not to invade their privacy sometimes takes every ounce of control he has over himself.

And this time, he screwed up.

Tim needed him to know what happened in his life.

Tim needed him and he wasn't there. Worse, he forced himself to stay blind when his son fell apart right before his eyes. Dick was right, somehow, Bruce could have prevented this.

But instead, he did nothing, went to Hawaii and let his kids deal with everything.

And now, Clark is telling him that he did the right thing, letting them deal with the Joker alone.

Letting Selina join them after she came to the manor late in the afternoon, with a purse full of little bottles of Ivy's toxin mixed with the Scarecrow's toxin.

« One of them is missing. » She said. « I think Tim stole it from my safe. And took it. I think this is why he's... so bad lately. »

The words he said, the tone he used … that came from the darkest part of him, the part full of terror and hate. He let it all out on Selina who took his anger without flinching. He can give her that much credit, she's strong.

Strong enough to force her way to Tim's room and talk to him a few minutes before Bruce manhandled her out of the manor with threats and probably more violence that was needed.

« I warned you not to cross my path anymore. »

« I'm helping the kids. I owe Tim that much. Then you won't hear about me no more. »

Clark said nothing, which means he doesn't approve of what happened but is kind enough not to let Bruce know.

« Everyone of them already proved they're more competent than me. » Bruce finally says. « I trust them … I have faith in them. And still I'm here, waiting for them to fail … Six of them against the Joker alone. And I feel like I should be there and do all the work... »

Clark's hand rest gently on his shoulder, a sturdy weight to rely on.

« But you're not. You let them fly. It takes courage not to shelter your loved one from everything. »

Bruce can't say he approves, but it's good to have someone praising him.

He's so tense he jumps on his seat when Robin's com-link comes off with a few statics.

« Joker's down. We're fine. I'm going on patrol. »

And the batcave is silent again.

Bruce is so relieved he could cry.

And as Clark wraps his arms around him, quietly, he does.

##

They were already not okay. Not really. Not what Conner had in mind when he thought of helping Tim.   
Then they started to die. One After another like a trend started by Jason long ago that they simply picked up late.  
Time is blurry for him. He knows who died but not in what order.  
Dick, that one had hurt Tim, no surprise there. Damian... That pretty much closed the deal. Bruce... Was it before or after Bruce that things became that bad between Tim and him ?  
Then they died.  
And they came back because life clearly hates them and wants to play with them a little more.  
And it was never the same again. they were never the same again and to this day, Conner has no idea what exactly happened to them.  
Except that they had sex. And it was good.  
And it was exactly what Tim wanted and what Conner shouldn't have given him. Because both of them deserved way better than a night of marathon sex to forget how bad they both felt.  
Tim deserved unconditional love, but wanted exactly the opposite.  
So Conner left and did not turn back. Because he deserved better than fighting for someone who was not ready to accept help.  
He still remembers the words they said that day.  
"We both wanted this Kon."   
"And we both deserve more. You deserve to have what you need, and right now I'm just what you want."   
"And what exactly am I supposed to need and want ?" Tim had spit.  
"You need comforting and help. And clearly last night you just wanted a fucktoy to forget your problems. I was happy to give you that, but it won't happen again. We both deserve better."  
He was right and Tim knew it.   
It still hurt more than throwing himself into the Sun.

And now Selina Kyle is sipping tea in the kitchen of the farm and telling him about Tim. About how he took a toxin that triggered a bad case of depression. About him not taking any medication. About him falling into a stupid trap... or more probably jumping into it.

She's telling him the man he loves is slowly falling apart piece by piece and no one knows why or how to help him. And Conner still doesn't know how to muster the guts to go back to Gotham and beg Tim to forgive him for screwing everything up.

« How did you link that to me ? » He asks.

« Chronology. » She says simply. « He was as fine as he can be until you died. He lost a friend, it was normal for him to grieve, so no one noticed. But he actually got worse and more sad once you came back to life. »

Conner bites his lips, he can almost picture it.

He can imagine Tim learning about his return, and hoping everyday for him to show up at his door or his window. But that day never came because Conner didn't know how to make up for everything he said to Tim that day. The day they broke up because Tim needed help and Conner felt like he couldn't help him.

How can someone call himself Superboy and fail at the simple task of helping his boyfriend in times of need ?

« I don't think I can help him. »

Selina frowns and sips the remaining of her lukewarm tea before standing in front of him. She's shorter than him but somehow manages to look down on him.

« I said you had to help him. I never asked if you think you can do it. »

« What am I supposed to do ? »

She shrugs. « Just... Be there. He doesn't need you to do anything. Just be there for him. »

« And where will you be ? » Conner asks as she makes her way out of the barn.

« Far away. Send my regards to him. And tell him I'm sorry. » She answers kicking her motorbike back to life.

She pretends not to hear him as he shouts « Sorry for what ? » and speeds up the alley, then down the street, then out of Smallville.

Sorry for not understanding sooner.

Sorry for intruding.

Sorry for making Tim work on dysfunctional couple with his broken heart.

Sorry for keeping the toxin.

Sorry for allowing Tim to hurt himself...

##

_« Why did you do that little Bird ? »_

_« He left me. And I don't even know why... I thought, if that could trigger the guilt in me I'd know why he never came back and shut me out of his life. »_

_Selina doesn't say a word, she hears Bruce furious footsteps on the staircases and she's here, by Tim's bed, helpless with no idea how to help his little friend._

_Because the teenager became a friend. She doesn't have many of them, and this one hurt himself thanks to one of her weapons and she feels guilty like she was the one feeding him the toxin._

_« I was his first love, his first kiss with a man, his first time... his first everything... And he left me and I don't know why... »_

_« What was he for you ? »_

_« He was … Just... Everything. »_

 

 

 

 


	4. Agape

  1. _Agape  : Selfless and unconditional love like the love a God has for his creatures_




 

They're standing in an incredible chaos, the Joker, tied up to a chair in front of them. His men are either passed out on various levels of the building or have left running the moment Red Hood and Robin barged in yelling.

To their defense, Batgirl must admit that this is a frightening sight for someone who already had to fight four opponents in the dead of the night and any normal human being would pee themselves when they see the giant form of Red Hood firing his guns, and the tiny shape of Robin playing with two sabers, so fast no one can see the blades move.

The Joker is no normal human. He laughed during all the fight, his screeching laughter echoing through the speakers dispersed in the building. And he stayed in his living room, like he was waiting for them to catch him. Coming from someone who once removed the skin of his own face, this should not be weird but it is.

He grins at her like he's happy to see her. She clenches her fists and turns her back to him. She hopes her body language tells him she's not afraid of him, how much she despise him, and how much she will make him suffer later tonight. For now, she crouches next to Starfire who's lying on the ground, her pupils wide, not focused on anything.

« Can you stand ? » Batgirls asks softly helping her friend to sit back.

Starfire blinks a few times and raises a hand to her head. « I've been shot. » She says.

Batgirl nods. « Your shield protected you, I don't think you're injured, how do you feel ? »

Starfire grins. « Like it's Budapest all over again. »

Batgirl sighs « I swear we'll never introduce you to any human popculture anymore. Ever. »

« What happened in Budapest ? » The Joker yells behind them.

There's a wet sound and a cry.

« Clowns don't talk unless asked questions. » Robin says.

Starfire is too tall for Batgirl to block her view entirely, she frowns. « Why is he ... »

« We're not done with him. » Batgirl says softly. She helps her friend stand back. « But you are. »

Starfire is smart, she just looks Batgirl in the eyes, at least she tries because the lenses on Batgirl's mask gives her an unreadable face.

« I'll... Nightwing... »

« Out for now. » Red Hood says from the other side of the room. He picked up Nightwing's body. Still breathing, still mostly okay as far as Batgirl can judge, but whoever took him down did a good job. Starfire winces and quickly steps forward to Red Hood, delicately relieving him of his burden. The joker cooes and another slap greets him, this time without a word from Robin.

Starfire looks at them one last time, trying really hard not to look worried and flies out the broken window carying Nightwing in her arms.

« Just the four of us, like good old days ! » The Joker pipes like a petulant child. He looks Robin straight in the lenses of his domino. « What will you do to me little Bat ? I'm sure there's a lot of ideas in this little head of yours. »

Robin tilts his head and crosses his arms smirking. He's injured, his uniform torn in various places and covered in dust but he doesn't seem to care.

« I do have many ideas. » He says softly. « But you're not worth my time. »

« What ? » The Joker looks like he's just been insulted and Red Hood chuckles behind Robin. « All of this for … Nothing ? I'm disappointed. »

Robin smirks again. « I said you're not worth MY time. But some people have lower standards. » he says pointing his thumb toward Red Hood and Batgirl behind him before turning to them. « You have twenty minutes top before the police comes in. »

Red Hood nods and the Joker laughs again.

« So this is your little revenge ? Pathetic. »

Robin doesn't dignify him with another look, he turns his com link on.

«  Joker's down. We're fine. I'm going on patrol. »

And then, there's just Red Hood, Batgirl, and the Joker, bound in the middle of a sea of corpses.

And his awful laugh that Batgirl still hears in her nightmares sometimes.

She clenches her fists.

« Batdaddy won't like that. » The Joker pipes.

« Batdaddy isn't here. » Red Hood says.

And for two long seconds, the Joker doesn't smile anymore.

 

##

« I should go back home. » Tim says.

He's sitting in the manor dining room, slowly eating a plate of scrambled eggs under Alfred's attentive glare.

« You are home. »

« I meant my apartment. »

« With all due respect master Timothy, you're in no shape to take care of yourself alone right now. »

Tim must admit that the butler is right. His limbs hurt less but he's still sporting impressive bruises and with an arm in a cast, he cannot really do anything by himself. It already takes him way too long to dress himself (but there's no way he'll ask for help on that one!).

« Still... I should... »

« Eat. You should eat before Damian comes back and lecture us about animal consumption. » Bruce says from the other end of the table. He got rid of his plate in record time and is already moving to mashed potatoes like a starving man.

« Too late. » Damian pipes from the secret door to the batcave. His hair are still damp from a recent shower and his long sleeves hide whatever bruises he might have after his fight against the Joker. There's only a scratch visible on his cheek and Bruce has to fight back the urge to rub his thumb over it and ask his son if he's alright. As long as he can stand, Damian will answer that he's fine.

« How did it go ? » Tim asks.

Damian sits next to him and Alfred puts a plate in front of him, full of stuff Tim couldn't name even if his life depended on it.

« As expected. » Damian says flatly. « Six of us against a hundred of them. I've been through worse. »

They remain silent for a moment until Tim asks something again.

« Take me to the Lazarus Pit. »

There's a clicking coming from Bruce's fork dropped on his plate but Tim is focused on Damian's serious expression. The kid looks at him with this stern glare he got from Bruce and perfected thanks to Talia and shakes his head.

« No. »

Tim grits his teeth. He did not expect that answer. Of course Damian doesn't like him, but the kid knows a simple solution when he sees one, and this is the simplest solution to his temporary incapacity to be of any help for them. He opens his mouth to argue but Damian speaks first.

« I'm not taking you to the pit as long as you're not mentally stable enough to take it. »

« I'm fine ! » Tim yells.

« No, you're not. » Damian turns to him, his food forgotten for now. The kid usually doesn't seem capable of expressing any human emotion except anger but for now, he seems almost genuinely worried. « The pit will heal your body, but it messes with your mind. And you're already in a dark place so I'm not taking the risk to have you come back with a brand new body and a shattered spirit. Time will heal you exactly like the pit would. Be patient. »

Tim stays open mouthed and Bruce chuckles at the other end of the table.

« You... You tell me to be patient ? YOU OF ALL PEOPLE ??? » Tim yells, raising from his seat, almost hitting Damian with his cast.

« Yes. Me. Of all people. I'm telling you that you can go through the healing process of your body but you must heal your mind first. »

« I can go without your help. »

« Suit yourself. » Damian retorts. « We're not friends Drake, we will probably never be. But I'm not risking your soul in the Lazarus Pit.»

Neither Bruce or Damian makes a move when Tim storms out of the dining room. They finish their plates in silence and take them back to the kitchen. They start doing the dishes, mostly because it's an easy and repetitive task that helps them focus.

« What you said to Tim back there … It was … Nice. » Bruce says. It seems lame, not really close to the admiration he feels toward his son. Because he, himself, would have taken Tim to the Pit not thinking what it could do to his mind. But Damian saw the big picture, he saw Tim as a complete human being, body and soul and knew him enough to deny him a simple solution that could hurt him even more.

« I was not trying to be nice. »

« You were trying to protect him. »

« Isn't that what family does ? »

« It is. »

And you came a long way to understand that. And I'm so proud of what you accomplished. Bruce doesn't say the words he has in mind, because it might not be the right time, it might not be what Damian needs or want to hear right now, so he keeps it to himself and just smile fondly to his son. For once, Damian smiles back.

« I'll sleep in the barn tonight. » The kid says as he tiptoes to put the clean plates back in the cupboard over the sink. « I'll make sure Ace sleeps with Drake so he won't scare Batcow. »

« You're being nice once again. » Bruce smiles.

« I know what it's like to feel... like everything is too much. » Damian says simply. « Animals help sometimes. »

There is something in his tone that warns Bruce not to ask questions. And something in his posture that speaks of defeat and exhaustion so he crouches next to Damian and puts a hand on his shoulder.

« You know that if you need to talk, or help or anything, I'm here, right ? »

Damian nods. « I know. And I will if needed. But for now, It's Drake you should worry about. I'll just... sleep with the cow tonight. I'll be fine. »

There is no tremor in his voice, nothing that might show he's lying and Bruce decide to trust him. At least for now.

He makes a mental note to check the barn before he goes to sleep and lets Damian chase Ace through the manor. The puppy barks happily when his human scratches him behind the ears and tries to lick Damian's face.

« You're sleeping with Drake tonight. » Damian says carrying the dog up the stairs. « He's ugly but he won't kick you. » He pushes the dog through Tim's ajar door and quickly runs down the stairs and head to the barn at the other end of the park. Father told him countless times that they could pay someone to take care of the cow but Damian always said no. Why would he adopt an animal he was not willing to care of ? That would be like having children with no intention of raising them. And Damian might be reckless sometimes but he's not one to play with other's lives.

He smirks as he enters the barn, of course Father might have some issues with his comparison between pets and children. Mostly because you can't compare caring for a cow to caring for an infant. And a little because it would remind him that he, indeed, had a child he never meant to take care of. Not that Damian blames him.

« Hey m'lady. » He greets the cow. The animal turns to him and slowly pushes her big head onto his chest. He pets her a little then takes a shovel and proceeds to clean the stable. It's a dirty work unworthy of him but it's part of being a pet owner and Damian makes a point to clean the barn once a day no matter what except when he's on a mission far away. Sometimes he talks to Batcow, sometimes he just hums, and sometimes he stays silent.

Today, he talks. He tells her about his day. About the fight against the Joker. About Tim and that Miss Kyle left the city. It feels like cleaning his mind as he cleans the barn. Batcow listens ( or most probably doesn't care at all) and that's all Damian asks for.

When he's done with his cleaning, Damian unfolds a blanket on the pile of hay next to the cow. He spends a lot of time here lately so he keeps a set of spare blankets and a pillow in a little shelf in the barn. They're starting to smell like cow and he doesn't care. He's slept on worst than smelly blankets on hay. By tomorrow, the hay will have flatten under him and he'll be sore from his fight, the fresh night air and a bad sleeping position, but as he lays on the herb, he smiles. This is more welcoming than his room in the manor.

This feels more personal, more like home even if his home never smelled of cow poo.

There's a tiny mewl and Alfred-the-cat jumps on his chest.

« Don't you have mice to chase ? » Damian asks sleepily. The cat just purrs and turns on himself a few times before laying down on his tiny human.

Yes, this feels more like home than his bedroom.

##

 

It's hard to feel bad when a puppy require you play with him and Tim is this close to thanking Damian when something catches his eyes. A shadow on his window and his mind falls into his default combat mode when his opponent enters the room.

He might be injured, but he's still fast and he has the advantage of the surprise as he grabs the person by the chest and pushes him down on his desk, twisting his arm behind his opponent's back.

« Tim damnit it's me ! »

Tim recognize the voice before the body and his heart freezes for a second then he tightens his grip on Conner's arm and pulls some more.

« Who are you ? » he grunts.

« Are you blind ? It's me, Kon ! »

Conner grunts as Tim uses all the strength of his good arm to pull him toward the window.

« Too bad you didn't do your homework. » He growls pushing Conner over the open window « You might have learn that Conner Kent and I have not seen each other in months. What kind of shapeshifter are you ? What are you doing here ? »

«TIM IT'S ME ! » Conner yells as he suddenly jumps into the void, floating outside the window, looking hurt and confused. « I'm not … clayface or whoever you think ... »

« You're not Conner Kent. » Tim says sternly like he's trying to convince himself. « I'm not asleep so this is not a dream. And in real life, he and I have no contacts anymore. »

« I came to apologize. » Conner says softly.

Tim grins. « Nice try shapeshifter. »

Conner couldn't say who is the most hurt of the two. Himself ? Or Tim ? There is something like defeat in his stance, in the way he turns his back to someone he thinks is a threat like he doesn't care being hit on the back.

« Philia. » He says, just loud enough for Tim to hear him and he sees Tim freeze. « It's the love between friends, brothers in arms. » Tim doesn't say anything but he doesn't move, doesn't turn toward Conner, doesn't pet the puppy anymore. « Eros... » Conner says again as he puts his feet on the window.

« Don't... »

« Is sexual desire. A carnal love that can consume you. »

« Shut up ! » Tim says still turning his back to him.

« Storge. Is the love of your family. » Conner steps into the room, extends a hand toward Tim only to be pushed away as his friend steps back away from him.

« I said shut up ! » Tim yells but Conner keeps talking.

« Agape is unconditional love. It's the closest to what I feel... »

« Don't you dare ... »

« But ancient greek lacks a word to sum up how I love you. »

Now Tim is shivering violently, blinking as he tries to hold back tears and Conner keeps talking, keeps repeating the words he said once and that felt like a promise.It seems so long ago but they both remember.

« A word that conveys all of these loves and some more. »

Conner steps toward Tim, and, this time he can actually touch him and Tim doesn't try to hurt him.

« You're real. »

Conner nods.

« I'm late. I'm sorry. »

« Months late. »

« I'm sorry. » Conner says softly. He carefully wraps his arms around Tim, mindful not to hurt him and Tim lets him rock him a little. It doesn't mean everything between them is right. It doesn't mean Tim is not hurt or angry. It just means that Conner is here, and Tim needs his presence more than anything so for now, this will be enough.

Conner's arms around him will be enough.

Later will come a time to speak, later will come a time to yell at each other and find out what the hell happened to them. Later.

For now, this feels safe.

And Tim did not realize until now how much he missed this feeling.

 

##

Trying to sleep is pointless Bruce realize as soon as he sits on his bed. A few nights in a row next to Clark already messed with his sleeping routine and the bed feels too empty to be comfortable tonight.

He should rest at least to readjust his internal clock who still thinks he's in Hawaii but he doesn't even try to. It's too late for patrol, he vowed not to check on the Joker, at least for tonight, Barbara sent him a quick text stating that Nightwing was injured but not badly, and everyone else is mostly fine.

There's nothing he can or should do and it feels... hollow, weird, threatening. He needs something to occupy his mind and he finds himself wandering the manor hallways, barefoot and in his pajamas something that did not happen since his childhood.

He could call Clark, talk. But he's wandering in the park heading to the barn, thinking he should at least have put slippers on.

Damian is already fast asleep, little ball of human curled up under a blanket on the hay with a purring Alfred-the-cat carefully balanced on his shoulder and Bruce smiles. He pets Batcow a few time.

« You watch over him for me » He softly asks the cow. He half expects her to nod but she just looks at him with one big eye and munch some more.

Alfred-the-cat follows Bruce out of the barn and circles at his feet, waiting for Bruce to take him his arms. At that moment, he perceives a movement coming from Tim's window. A floating silhouette that shouldn't be here. He sighs, petting the cat that purrs next to his hear.

« I lived with four teenagers and I'm still an old idiot. » He murmurs.

The cat jumps from his shoulder halfway to the manor and Bruce cold feet barely make any sound on the carpeted floor leading to Tim's room. He knocks twice, waiting for an answer, ready to go back to his room when a soft « It's open » invites him in.

The first thing he sees is Tim, asleep on his bed, but not the kind of heavy drugged sleep he's been in lately. Something that looks like normal resting time for a human being who would not live off coffee and painkillers. His broken arm is tucked close to his chest and his good one extended across the bed, hand gripping Conner Kent's arm. The clone is sitting on the floor and shoots Bruce an apologetic look.

« I know I came uninvited but Catwoman said he needed help and ... » Conner looks at Tim with an expression that reminds Bruce of Clark. « He wakes up if I try to move. »

Yep, definitely like Clark.

Bruce sighs.

« Get on the bed, it's big enough for the two of you »

Conner looks at him with round eyes.

« I already know way more than I wanted to know about you two. » Bruce grunts. « And Alfred will take that as a personal offense if someone sleeps on the floor in this house. »

Conner smiles and slowly raises on his knees, mindful not to wake Tim up and Bruce retreats to the corridor, but before he's out of reach he can hear Conner speaking in a soft tone and the rustling of bed sheets and he wonders how many things he forced himself not to see lately.

He finds himself sitting on a chair in the library, looking the night sky by the big window and trying to connect the dots of what he just witnessed.

Tim asleep without drugs, seeming peaceful and gripping Conner's arm like an anchor.

The fact that Catwoman told Conner that Tim needed help.

He connects the dots way too slowly for his liking. When was the breaking point for Tim? When did he start to slip away from his family ? To hide how bad he felt ?

Now that he's seen Conner, the answer is pretty obvious.

Tim was fine, mostly. As fine as any of them can be anyway.

Then Conner died and he was devastated. Of course he was, like any normal being would be after losing a friend. Clark was in a bad place too, they all felt the loss but at the time it felt normal that Tim was the most hurt of them.

He mourned for a total of three days Bruce remembers. The third day, he went back on patrol, snapping at anyone who tried to tell him that he didn't need to.

_« I know I don't need to. But I'm doing it anyway. »_

And of course, Bruce did not hold him back. What would have been the point ? He just made sure for a week or so that Tim did not get injured, that he was physically capable of patrolling and going on mission. He consciously made the effort not to press any question, not to ask how Tim felt, to let him deal with his grief the way he wanted to.

Maybe he shouldn't have because this is probably the moment when Tim started hiding things from him. From everyone.

No.

No, Bruce thinks. Be smarter. Tim hid things from you long before that. He hid Conner, that is pretty obvious now. He hid his relationship with the clone from everyone and then, kept hiding it by hiding how affected he was by Conner's death.

And Bruce saw nothing.

He let his son down when Tim was unconsciously screaming for help and Bruce can see it now.

Not sleeping, overworking himself, living off cafeine... that was normal coming from Tim.

But snapping at Dick was not.

Not responding when Damian pushed his buttons was not. And these were two things Bruce definitely noticed a few months ago.

He just let it slip... When did he become so soft ? So unaware of his own surrounding ?

He takes his head in his hands with a grunt.

« Something's wrong sir ? »

« I can't name one thing that is right for the moment Alfred. »

Starting with the fact that's it's currently 4 AM and Alfred is already up.

« Starting your day earlier than usual ? » Bruce asks.

« I could hear you brooding from my room. » The butler smiles and sits on the chair facing Bruce. « What's on your mind ? »

« Catwoman knew why Tim was sick before I did. »

«And you usually are the first to know everything, being world's greatest detective. »

« I should have known how my son was before someone who's not even family. »

« With all due respect Bruce, you're wrong. »

It's so unusual from Alfred to call him by his name that it makes Bruce smile at his friend lack of subtlety (which is totally on purpose and they both know it).

« You could have known before her of course. But should you have ? I'm not sure about that. Actually I'm almost proud of your new capacity of letting go of other's lives. »

« You're proud that I turned a blind eye to Tim's struggles ? »

« We all did. » Alfred says sternly. He has his legs crossed, his fingers intertwined and he looks at Bruce with the same stare he used to have back when he was a kid being lectured about good manners. « Tim became really good at hiding things from all of us. And whatever he hid, he had his reasons. Not knowing all his secrets is unusual coming from you, from the Batman. But I'm proud of Bruce Wayne for being... adult enough to let his loved ones live outside of his grasp. »

Bruce frowns.

« You think knowing things about their life is not adult ? »

« It's paranoid. » Alfred says. « And it's a fine line you've been walking on for too long. »

Bruce has nothing to answer to that. Alfred is probably right but it doesn't change the fact that he feels incredibly guilty.

« Dick blames me. »

« Give him time. He'll understand eventually that no one thinks clearly when it comes to the ones they love. Not even him. »

This is also true. Dick reacts out of feelings and passion when it comes to the ones he love, and it usually takes him some times to be calm enough to properly analyze a situation. This gives Bruce hope that they'll figure out how to talk to each other sooner or later.

« Conner Kent is here. He's helping Tim sleep. » Bruce says.

« Oh. » Alfred doesn't seem surprised but he had decades to master the most admirable poker face Bruce has ever seen.

« Did you know they were together ? »

Alfred raises his shoulders, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. « If Tim wanted me to know, he would have told me. »

This is not an answer, but it has a point.

The point is that Tim has free will. He has a life, a life Bruce is not part of, should not be part of, and maybe has no right to be aware of.

« He's growing up. » He sighs. « I'll never get used to it. To them not being kids anymore... »

« Well... I'm still not used to you being legally of age to drink. » Alfred says.

And Bruce start laughing as the butler raises up.

« I'll have a room ready for Conner. »

« I don't think he needs one. » Bruce says still smiling.

« In this household, guests have their own room, it's non negotiable. It's up to them if they sleep in it or not. »

Bruce suddenly feels soft and warm inside. This is the straight deadpan humorless voice that raised him, that taught him the most important lessons. And this voice comes from a man who has been taking care of them for ages. Every fiber of him wants to hug the old man, to tell him he loves him, like when he was ten and only lived for Alfred's approval.

« Thank you Alfred. »

He doesn't say more, but over the years, these simple words started to convey way more than their own meaning.

Alfred nods and closes the door behind him.

The sun is rising and Bruce should take a shower and dress for a day of work. But he takes five more minutes to look at the sky slowly tuning pink.

It's a good sign he thinks.

Things will be alright eventually.

 

##

When Dick wakes up, he feels like crap. Actually he feels like crap pressed into some pile of old shit and with a killer headache which is not near the worse he ever felt.

At least, he's home. He knows it even before he opens his eyes because the sheets around him smell like the laundry detergent he bought with Kori last month. « Exotic moon » perfume. As far as both of them know, the moon doesn't smell like anything and what the hell is an exotic moon ?

It made them laugh back them and it makes him smile now even if half of his muscles are currently giving him hell.

« Do you have a concussion ? » Kori asks.

He opens his eyes just enough to see her frame in the dark and shakes his head as much as he can on the pillow.

« Don't think so. » He groans. He doesn't feel dizzy or sick and his headache doesn't seem like something a good painkiller couldn't get rid of. « You fine ? »

« Bruised. But I'll live. » She says.

« The others ? »

« They were fine when I left them to bring you home. »

This, this makes Dick raise on the bed way too quickly for his sore body and his head spins as he grips her arms.

« You left them alone ? »

« Fight was over. Joker was down. » She says with the stern tone she usually uses for reports after a Titans mission. « Relax. » The last word is softer. « There was no danger anymore when I left. »

But Dick frowns, plops back on the pillow and covers his head with his hands groaning.

«I need to check on them... »

« No you don't ! » Kori says softly. « They handled it without you, let them finish and rest. »

But Dick tries to raise from the bed again and she sighs and pushes him back on the mattress with one hand. Sometimes, he hates that she's physically stronger than him.

« You don't understand Kori … Jason and Barbara... they have a history with the Joker ... »

«I know. » She says and sit next to him on the bed. Her hand is still on his chest and soon, her legs on either side of his hips. « Trust them. Don't be like Batman. » Her lips hover above his and he smiles, closes his eyes, wraps his arms around her.

« That's low Princess. »

« I'm not above playing dirty. »

He can hear her smile in her voice and it makes his heart skip a beat just before her first kiss. She's mindful not to put too much pressure on his new bruises but her fingers are in all the right places like his body is a device and she knows exactly how to shunt his brain and make him forget about his worries.

Plus, she's right, if he goes after Jason and Barbara now, they might resent him, his lack of trust in their restrain, like he would resent Bruce for coming after him. He shouldn't think about his adoptive father when his girlfriend is kissing a path from his fingers to his shoulder, he really shouldn't.

But what if …

He heard Jason and Barbara talking earlier.

They had a plan. A plan they did not share with the group and he trust them, he really does. Barbara has what it takes to stop Jason from killing the Joker. But what if...

If they did something … if something happened and Dick wasn't there …

Kori's hair fall slowly on his face, it's a caress he's not used to anymore, it's soft and it feels like … like rain.

His heart skips another beat and his chest clenches.

If something happened and Dick let it happen because he was away having sex when someone else got killed when he should have been here to prevent it.

_It feels like rain and the mattress feels like concrete behind his back_

« It's okay Dick … everything will be okay. »

What if something happened ? What if they took their revenge on the Joker and he wasn't there to remind his brother and his friend that revenge is not what they do. That they do not kill.

What if he failed again ?

« It's okay. » Kori whispers against his lips. She's above him and he can't see anymore, panic surge through him, makes him unable to move, unable to say anything and there's a lump in his throat, he cannot breathe.

Her hands are on his body and he knows, deep down he knows she doesn't mean to hurt him, but it's too much.

He passed out on a fight, he let his team down, he knew they needed guidance, they needed their big brother and he failed them.

And he's here having sex.

Again.

It feels too much like his nightmares about Tarentula. It's Kori, but it's not her and his body reacts quicker than his mind. He pushes her away with all his strength and jumps away from the bed. He only catches a glimpse of Kori on the floor before he locks the bathroom door behind him, panic overflowing him, taking his breath away. His fists clenches on the wooden door that would not hold her back if she wanted to get to him.

He doesn't hear anything except for the blood pulsing on his hears and his heart beating erratically. It takes seconds, maybe minutes before he hears her voice, soft but clear like she's talking her lips pressed to the door.

« Talk to me Dick... Are you alright ? Dick... please ? »

He can't say a word, only a tiny whimper escape his throat and he takes two steps back and curls on the floor shivering violently.

« Dick... »

« Go away Kori. » He manages to mutter.

Go away …

Leave me alone …

I need to check on...

What do I need to do ?

Fuck I can't remember...

fuck …

Fuck …

It takes what feels hours before he manages to crawl out of his spot on the floor and get back to the empty bedroom. There's light coming from the living room and he feels empty, hollow when he sees Kori sitting on the table with a book she's not reading and a cup of something she's not drinking. Her eyes are full of questions and worries.

« Did I hurt you ? What happened Dick ? »

He can't blame her. She couldn't possibly know. She was away when he was poisoned by Catwoman's toxin, he did not expect to have a panic attack and she couldn't know … but everything else... she knows him and still...

« You … You can't distract me from my duty with sex every time something doesn't go your way Kori. » He spits. Okay maybe this came out not as good as it sounded in his head. She frowns.

« It's not your duty to spy on your team mates. You have to trust them Dick ! You have to trust us ! »

« Trust you ? How could I when I know you're angry at me and won't talk to me about it ? When I know you're covering the rest of the team so they can take their revenge when you know that this is against the rules ? »

Her eyes gleam dangerously but she doesn't say a thing and Dick knows he already crossed a line or seventeen but he can't take back what he said. He doesn't even want to.

« How can I trust you when you clearly don't care about me ? You play on my will not to be like Bruce to get me to do what you want, you think I can be distracted by sex like a common slut and... »

« It's enough. » She yells. She raises from her seat, radiating anger. « Go ahead Dick, go check on your siblings and show them how little you think of them, I won't hold you back anymore. But don't come back whining about how you're not like Batman because you're just as much of a control freak as he is ! »

« You don't understand ! »

« NO I DON'T ! » She yells. « And I'm done trying. » she adds softly like she feels defeated. « I'm done dealing with your family drama when my family no longer exists. I'm done waiting for you to feel better and talk to me. »

It's like in two sentences the fight was drained out of them and they look at each other defeated and sad. She sighs and opens the window.

« I'll let you know if they killed the Joker. » She says and jumps from the window. There's a flash of green light and she's gone in the night.

Dick sighs, lets himself fall into the couch and takes his head in his hands. His skin itches where tears dried earlier.

« Good game Grayson... You really screwed up this time... »

 

##

As predicted, Damian feels sore ans cold when he wakes up. The hay pokes his nose through the cover and Batcow almost trips on him trying to eat something above his head.

He had roughly four hours of sleep according to his internal clock and his last meal seems like a lifetime ago. Part of him wants to hide in the barn longer and pretend to be asleep but he raises anyway because he's not really used to indulge to laziness.

The bottom of his slacks are wet with morning dew by the time he reaches the kitchen of the manor and a happy Ace jumps in his legs wagging his tail.

“Did Drake kick you out?” Damian asks the puppy, crouching to pet him. Of course the dog doesn't answer and follows him into the kitchen where Alfred greets him with tea and french toasts. They don't have time to make small talk ( not that Damian is prone to anyway) before they hear soft footsteps on the stairs and Tim enters the kitchen followed by a somewhat sleepy Conner Kent who hesitates on the doorstep when he sees Damian.

Tim, however, walks directly to the coffee pot and pours himself the biggest cup of the entire manor.

If Alfred is surprised by Conner's presence, he does a good job hiding it and puts two plates in front of both teenagers which owes him a grunt from Tim and a warm smile from Conner.

“Long time no see Kent.” Damian finally says between two spoonfuls of cereals. “What owes us the pleasure of your company ?” Honest to God, he tries not to sound sarcastic but he lacks practice in this field.

“I heard Tim was... hem... I came to help Tim on... something.”

Damian frowns and look at Tim who is currently rolling his eyes, half hidden behind his gigantic mug.

“Selina told him I attempted suicide and he freaked out.”

“She never mentioned suicide !” Conner yells like he's being stung by a bee.

“Good because I never intended to kill myself.”

They fall in an uncomfortable silence and Damian watches them carefully. He's not really good at reading people, he knows the basic of body language, and it became easier to read his family since he spent a long time with them lately. He doesn't know Conner enough to read him but the clone is actually an open book that is currently screaming guilt in capital letters. And Tim wears his shoulders like he does when he's about to finish a long report and can't actually believe he's seing the end of it.

“You make a pitiful friend Kent. Taking news from Miss Kyle and not from the source ? Didn't Clark teach you better ?”

Damian knows he's being a brat, and Alfred shoots him a warning look but he doesn't really expect this reaction of shame from Conner. The clone looks at his plate, not saying anything and Tim is suddenly tense next to him.

Damian may not know a lot about interpersonal relationships, but he knows enough to add two and two.

“Correct me if I'm wrong but friends do tell these kind of stuff to their friends, right ?”

“Shut it Damian.” Tim grunts.

“Why ? Isn't it odd that he came back to life but never flew here to say hi ?”

“Watch your mouth brat !” Conner grunts. Damian frowns.

“Or what ? You'll leave ? You'll let your friend fall back into depression without even checking on him ?”

“It's... complicated.”

“Complicated as in you were lovers, one of you died and didn't not care enough for the other to come check on him after he came back to life ?”

half of what he says is a shot in the dark, but half of it kinda makes sense and the way both Tim and Conner look at their plates is a clear sign that he's right. And suddenly the anger runs through his veins as he realize the extend of what he just discovered.

“It's because of you...” He mutters between greeted teeth. “For months we've been trying to help him not knowing what was wrong with him... but it was all because of a stupid clone...”

He's fast, fast enough that Conner doesn't have the time to turn on his telekinesis to protect himself from the bowl that Damian throws at his head. It should be funny to see him drenched in lukewarm tea but Damian is already stepping on the table, launching himself with all his rage at the clone's throat. As long as Conner is too surprised to fight back, he can hurt him as much as he hurt his brother. And damn it took Damian long enough to accept Drake as part of his family not to let said family be ruined by an asshole born from a sick mind in a laboratory.

So he hits the clone, again and again, blinded by rage and ignores both Alfred and Tim yelling at him to stop. Punches becomes kicks when his opponent falls from his chair and tries to get back on his feet. Kicks become yells of rage and Damian pushing Conner out of the kitchen and in the hallway, satisfied to see specs of blood fall from his bruised lips.

“Get out of my house !”

“I'm here for Tim.” Conner says taking a few steps back, whipping the blood from his face with the back of one hand.

“Too little too late Clone !”

He knows he touched a sensitive chord here because Conner blinks like he's fighting back tears and it's all it takes for Damian to jump on him once again, kicking, hitting every spot that would kill any normal human being. He barely registers that the clone doesn't make any effort to fight him back or protect himself, and he actually doesn't care.

“You hurt him. You hurt my family.”

Punches after punches he forces Conner to step back toward the front door.

“Leave my house before I kill you !”

##

 

Alfred's waffles have the power to make almost everything in life more bearable and Dick dreams of his first bite when he stops his motorcycle in front of the manor. But something is wrong, instead of the peaceful chirping of some birds that he usually hears once his hers stop ringing from the noise of the bike, instead of the usual noises, he hears Damian yelling when he removes his helmet. Almost immediately, someone flies through the door, and dick raises a hand to protect himself from sparks of wood that scatter all over him.

“Don't ever hurt my family again !” Damian yells again, almost flying to launch himself on what Dick realizes is the bloody form of Conner Kent, curled into a ball on the gravel a few feet away from his tires. It's an impulse more than a conscious move that makes him grab Damian by the waist and pull him away from Conner.

“Damian … DAMI ! STOP !” He yells as the kid struggle to get free of his grip.

“IT'S BECAUSE OF HIM !” Damian cries with a voice made hoarse by anger. “Tim hurt himself because of him !” From the corner of his eyes, Dick sees Tim and Alfred standing next to the remains of the door and his attention slips for half a second. Damian creeps out of his arms and almost manages to kick Conner once more before Dick catches him again.

“Whatever happened, it's not worth injuring him !”

“Why ?” Damian keeps struggling in his arms. “I've taken worse beatings for lesser crimes !”

Part of his mind is clouded by rage but part of him registers how dick stance changes from holding him back to securing him in his embrace. The older probably doesn't even even realize it and it makes him want to yell even louder. He doesn't need a hug, he needs this goddamn clone out of his sight !

“I came here to help Tim.” Conner says, painfully raising to his feet. “I'll go if only he wants me to.”

Dick doesn't have a clue what's happening here but he turns his eyes to Tim, still standing in the front door, pale, still in his pajamas and his lips tighten into a fine line.

“He can stay.” Tim says. “Drop it Damian. This is none of your business.”

“What happens to my family is my business !”

Tim shoots him an empty look and shrugs, he turns to Alfred with a sight.

“I don't have time for this.” He says loud enough that everyone hears him. “Fight each other to death if you want, I don't care.”

Dick feels Damian stop struggling in his arms and exchange a look with Conner, then Alfred as Tim retracts into the manor.

“What the hell just happened here ?” He asks, carefully letting go of Damian. But for now the kid doesn't seem prone to murder anyone.

It takes two cups of coffee, five pancakes and half an hour of explanations from both Alfred and Damian for him to understand everything. Both Conner and Tim are missing, probably hiding in the batcave and the manor is as calm as it usually is.

“Let me get this straight.” Dick says frowning. “Tim fell into depression because he and Conner broke up and then you decided to kill Conner to defend Tim's honor ?”

“That's a strong shortcut.” Alfred pipes.

“He deserves it !” Damian grunts. “You don't let the one you love down like that.”

“It's not that easy Damian.” Dick says softly. He knows a lot abut letting down the people he loves, and he can't find it in him to really blame Conner. “Sometimes, whatever you do, you can't do good. People fall in and out of love, it happens...”

“But they're still in love !” Damian yells.

His eyes meet Dick's and there's something in the green pupils that Dick has never seen before: a little boy. A little boy who's seen way too much to believe in anything, but still young enough to have hopes. Hope that love can be unconditional and forever. Hope that everything will turn out alright in the end. Hope that he can fight for his family hard enough to protect them from everything.

And there are tears here too that Damian wipes angrily with his sleeve.

“You don't let down the people you love.” He grunts again.

“Sometimes, you can't do better.” Dick says softly. “It doesn't mean you intend to hurt them. It doesn't mean that Conner doesn't deserve forgiveness or a second chance.”

“I'm not giving him either.”

“Suit yourself.” Dick smiles. “But it's up to Tim to decide that. Not you.”

##

 

“You have a lot to answer for.” Tim says.

The batcave is quiet except for the tiny noises the bats do, trying to find a spot to sleep.

“I know. And I will.” Conner says.

“But not now.”

“Not now.”

Conner remains silent as Tim turns to the computer and starts working on reports. It's quiet, steady, it feels almost like they used to be, but nothing is the same and Damian had a point. Conner let Tim down, and that's not something you do to the people you love. And he has only lame apologies to explain what he did.

“It's good to have you here.” Tim finally says still typing his report.

And conner feels worse than when Damian fought him because he somewhat deserved the wrath of the teen, but Tim's forgiveness... he hasn't earned it yet.

“I'm sorry I should have come sooner.”

“Yes.” Is Tim answer. He turns his chair toward the clone, he sports his best poker face, the one he uses when he's fighting under the red robin cowl. “I guess, it's better late than never. And I'm sorry too.”

“For what ?”

“For whatever I made that made you break up with me. I'm sorry.”

They look at each other for a few seconds, Conner can pinpoint the moment when Tim tries to lower his eyes and turn his back to him and just before he does, he takes a few steps forward and crouches to be on Tim's level, wraps his arms around him and squeezes him as hard as he dares.

“Don't ever apologize to me.” He mutters in Tim's hear.

“But...”

“Don't, please.... don't.”

And Tim wraps his good arm around his waist and Conner wants to kiss him so bad it almost hurt, but it's too soon, too rushed so he holds back.

“I'm sorry.” He says again.

“You'll be forgiven.”

It's a promise and it makes everything feel better once the words escaped Tim's mouth.

Because they are true. If Conner wants forgiveness, there's nothing in the world that will keep Tim from forgiving him.

To Conner, the words sound like the promise of redemption. Like if God himself told him he only has to confess his sins to be forgiven. Because their love is deep like that.

(Agape is unconditional love, like the love God has for his creatures, he remembers reading this line so long ago, back when everything was fine)

They both have a lot to answer for. And a lot to apologize for. And a long way ahead of them before they're good again. But somehow they will manage.

And for the first time in months, Tim feels almost fine.

 

##

Bruce is late for work, which is not surprising but infuriating for his secretary and the two dozen persons awaiting him for a board meeting.

Among them a slightly worried Lucius Fox asking about Tim. Bruce makes up an excuse about him falling from a tree.

“He tried to reach the cat who was stuck... you know.”

Yes, Lucius knows and rolls his eyes as the other politely pretend not to hear their conversation.

Halfway through the meeting, Bruce gets a text from Alfred explaining what happened at breakfast between Damian and Conner and he sighs. You would think that a mansion that big would be enough to house three teenagers without them trying to murder each other.

By noon he already feels exhausted and out of his game when he gets a phone call from Damian's latest tutor, telling him with a high screeching voice that he quits.

Bruce is this close to tell the professor that Damian might already know a lot more than him already. Every bit of instruction he tries to give his son is mostly pretense, an illusion thrown at the world for the journalist to think Damian is a somewhat normal kid. A somewhat normal kid who deadpan threatened his professor of killing him.

Bruce groans as he hangs up the phone.

“Do you need anything mister Wayne?” His secretary asks from the doorstep of his office.

He's about to answer truthfully that he needs a friend and a drink right now but he shakes his head a shoots her the best charming smile he can manage.

“Did I warn you not to get kids, ever ?”

“Several times lately.” She smiles. “And knowing that you have three hospitals and orphanages to visit this month, I took the liberty not to take you seriously.”

This time he genuinely smiles and they're back to their work related talks.

He wants to call Clark. It itches him for most of the day. Call him, hear his voice and complain that he's not fit to be the father of two... no, way too many, teenagers. And inform him that Conner currently is in the Manor.

He should call Martha Kent too, but that would mean explaining some stuff to her and he tries his best to never have to explain anything to this woman.

One thing that he does anyway is check on the Joker. Not that he doesn't trust Jason, not at all, but just … he checks.

It's way too easy these days to find any intel about vigilantes work because there is always somebody filming them, sending the tapes or pictures to the news, or vigilante related blogs or youtube channels. Bruce isn't sure yet what he thinks of it but it's useful sometimes.

He find blurry pictures of a green light in Gotham sky that the blogger mistook as being Green Lantern but is probably Starfire. Then screen caps of newsflashes showing the Joker, knocked out, being carried to the medical aisle of Arkham by cops and paramedics.

Alive.

Severely beaten, but alive.

Then, rumors about who did what. Most of them false, some of them scarily accurate as far as he knows. Barbara, Jason and Dick's motorcycles on various pictures because these kids forget way too often that their every moves are tracked these days. Neither Robin or Catwoman are mentioned which makes Bruce both relieved and a little proud of how sneaky Damian still is.

It also means that no one has seen Catwoman these last 24 hours except for Conner Kent.

He calls her because he feels bad now that Tim does seem a little better.

His call goes straight to the voicemail.

“ _You've reached Selina Kyle's old number. Good luck finding the new one. If you're a cop, I'm not guilty. If you're one of the Wayne family, don't try to reach or find me. Daddy won't like it. But tell him I'm sorry. BEEEP.”_

He's not surprised, not really that she ditched her phone. It's probably in a bin somewhere in Smallville and tracking her would be...

He threatened her out of anger and fear for Tim. She left and she won't be easy to find. Plus, finding her would be awkward. Another notch in his record of being a creepy stalker and a control freak.

He feels kinda miserable for the rest of the day, and the evening is not really better because being a father means he has to school Damian about making his teacher resign which is a little fight in itself.

Being Bruce Wayne feels more exhausting than being Batman sometimes.

He goes on patrol alone.

Dick is on night duty at the police station but Batman can hear him in his head making jokes about him brooding alone in the dark. It should rain, this would fit perfectly with his mood and this uneventful evening.

“You've been ignoring my calls.”

Years of training are the only reason why Batman doesn't jump out of his skin. He can usually hear Superman mostly because of the sound his cape makes floating behind him. But there's only Clark Kent flying a few feets behind him, with his glasses on, his hair messy, his worn out plaid, and a concerned look.

“What are you?” Batman grunts. “A teenager who needs a goodnight text everyday ?”

Clark frowns. “And what are you ? An emo teen locking himself in his room when life is too unfair ?”

“what's an emo teen?”

Clark laughs and gracefully lands on the rooftop. He still has a concerned look that gets on Bruce nerves.

“You're avoiding me.” Clark states ignoring his question.

“Seems like I could improve my skill in that department.”

Clark sits on the edge of the rooftop, his feet dangling fifty meters above the ground. And he waits patiently for Batman to say something. It's like a contest of who can keep quiet the longest and for once, Batman really wishes someone commits a crime somewhere. Or that Alfred will call with some form of domestic emergency so he could escape this situation.

But life is unfair and nothing happens.

“Conner is at the Manor.” He finally say.

“I know.”

“I think he's the reason why Tim was acting strange lately.”

“I know, he told me.” Clark says. He doesn't need to see Batman frown under his cowl to know what the vigilante is thinking. “ Some people actually trust me and tell me stuff you know.”

“I trust you.”

“Then would you mind explaining why you're avoiding even my gaze ?”

Batman doesn't say a word for a long moment, still standing on the roof a few feets away from Clark. There's wind now that makes his cape twirl around his calves and mess Clark's hair even more. No one in this damn city gets mugged when he needs it !

“You make me soft.” Batman finally mutters. He hates stating it, it makes it way too real, way too frightening to admit that maybe, just maybe, his relationship with Clark might have some downsides. But as soon as he says it, the words start rolling out of him like something in him broke and he can't keep the flood of worries inside him like he did since yesterday. “Everything seems way too easy, way too obvious with you there. And I lost my edge. I let go of what makes me good at what I do. I did not even know my partner was almost suicidal because I was so blinded by you. By us. I can't let myself be reckless like that anymore.”

He sees Clark frown, tilt his head in a quizzical way.

“This sounds like you're breaking up with me.” His voice is halfway between a joke and a question and his little smile falls when Batman only steps away from him. “You're breaking up with me.” Clark states.

“I'm sorry.”

 

##

It's predictable that Barbara would be in that church tonight. It's colder inside than outside which makes Jason think that he hates every old building made out of big stones that looks pretty but makes a poor job of actually sheltering anyone from the cold.

She's sitting as far away from the altar as she can, her arms crossed, a cup of coffee forgotten by her side. She's so still he almost misses her the first time he shoots a quick glance inside. His footsteps sound loud as the thunder when he steps toward her bench but she doesn't move and he sits next to her.

“How'you feelin'?” He asks. He steals her coffee and takes a sip. It's too cold to still be tasty.

“It was a one time deal.” She says bluntly not looking at him.

“I usually get that from people I had sex with. Did we have sex that I don't remember ?” Jason jokes.

She sighs and lightly punches him in the arm.

“What we did to the Joker. I won't do it again.” She clarifies.

“I know.” He says. She looks puzzled which makes him smile a little. “I knew all along that you would only agree to that once.”

“It was … I enjoyed it … the first three punches I enjoyed it. Beating him, make him suffer. But it's not worth it.” She mutters. “It doesn't give me back the years I've lost. It won't make my nightmares disappear. It doesn't even makes me feel better... It's just … It was pointless.”

Jason doesn' have anything to say to that so he remains silent until she asks : “Did it make you feel better ?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing will make me feel better, and I would happily do it all over again just for the five minutes of intense satisfaction it gave me to beat him like he beat me.”

“Don't say that ...”

“It's true.” He takes another sip of the horrible coffee just to give himself a little time to form his sentence before he speaks again. “I will never get over what he did to me. He's a main character n my stry now. But you … he was barely a chapter in yours. He never took you down.”

“He paralyzed and raped me.”

“But he never destroyed you. Even without your legs, you were still you. You found yourself despite what he did to you. You're way stronger than anything the Joker could do to you. And I'm not. That's why I wanted you to come with me in this mission. To get you some closure even if I can't get any.”

“Jay...” There's tears in her eyes when she grabs him by the shoulders and hugs him as tight as she can, spilling the coffee over the bench, their pants and the stone floor. “You're a better person than you give yourself credit for.” She says softly her head buried in his large shoulder.

“Write it down and sign it, I could use that as a get out of jail card.”

She laughs and punches him lightly on the arm again.

 

##

Clark can hear everything happening in the manor even from outside.

The cooking TV show that Alfred watches, Damian chasing Ace through the backyard ,Tim and Conner talking in the library and he tries really hard not to eavesdrop.

Conner's confession about his relationship with Tim was a surprise but it actually makes a lot of sense and he's quite impressed with how they both managed to keep it a secret for so long. And he can understand why Bruce feels so bad about not discovering it sooner, especially knowing how it affected Tim.

Under other circumstances, he would probably let Bruce deal with his guilt alone. He would probably respect his will not to have him in his life, at least for now. But something caught his hear this morning during Conner's phone call. Something he said when telling him his fight with Damian that left Clark wondering.

So he's outside the manor, listening and waiting for Bruce to come home. Waiting inside would be a big breach of privacy knowing that, for now, they're not a couple.

This feels wrong.

Finally, he hears the roar of the Batmobile coming from deep under the ground. He waits ten, maybe fifteen minutes before ringing the doorbell. There's actually no door in the front entrance, being destroyed earlier today but the maintenance people fixed some temporary portal that only opens from the inside.

He could destroy it with a simple look but he waits for someone to answer, knowing very well that Alfred won't do it, neither will the kids because you don't plan to win back Bruce Wayne's favor without the help of his family.

Bruce is frowning when he opens the door and his expression becomes even more severe when he sees Clark.

“What are you doing here ?”

“Trying not to do the same mistake as our kids did.” And yes, he uses the term knowing damn well that Conner is listening to him. He does it on purpose to let him know that he doesn't blame him for whatever happened lately.

“We're not kids Clark. And I can't take the risk of having someone injured because I was too distracted to do my job correctly.”

“And I can't take the risk of letting you down when you need help.” Clark says firmly. He pushes the door away and steps into the manor forcing Bruce to take a few steps back. “I hear your concern. I understand it and we'll find a way for you not to be distracted from now on. But you won't push me away that easily.”

“Don't make me throw you out of my house.” Bruce growls.

“I'll come back if you do.” They stare at each other for a few seconds and Clark can feel Bruce tense more and more. “You have multiple sources of distraction, and I'm the only one whose safety is not a concern of yours. This is only a pretext and you know it Bruce. If you want me out of your life, we'll go back to being partners in fights. But you won't push me away just because you blame yourself for what happened.”

He cautiously takes a step toward Brce who doesn't move. Then another one until they're almost chest to chest and Clark can wrap his hands aroud Bruce arms. “It's not your fault.”

“I should have known.”

“So should I. But punishing us won't change anything.”

Clark is way too aware of everything that surrounds them. That the volume of the TV was turned down, that Tim and Conner spy on them from upstairs, that Bruce shivers under his touch, that his pulse quickens a little.

“You don't let down the people you love when they need you.” Clark says softly. “I'm not letting you down.”

Bruce doesn't push him away, doesn't move as Clark closes the distance between their lips. “Tell me it's okay to kiss you.” He asks in a murmur because he has no idea how Bruce might react, what happens in his head, what will his next move be.

“Don't be a teenager.” Bruce groans gripping Clark's hair. “There's already enough drama in this house.”

Clark could laugh out loud if they weren't kissing right now.

“Tt, get a room.” Damian scowls behind him.

“It's part of the plan.” Clark says smiling. He steps away from Bruce. “Give the kids two minutes to hide before you get upstairs.”

Bruce rolls his eyes and makes a point to immediately climb the stairs, perfectly aware of the hurried footsteps above him.

Clark and Damian are left alone in the entry, the teenager holding Ace in his arms with a perplex frown on his face.

“What you said to my father... I used the same words this morning.”

“I know.” Clark says softly. “Conner told me. And I think it's a valuable lesson you taught him.”

Damian smirks.

 

"What I don't know is who you were referring to." Clark adds concerned. "Who let you down for you to be so angry about it?"

Damian snorts and just gives him one of these looks that make him look like a tiny Bruce. He doesn't answer. 

"Fine." Clark gives up. "Just know that if you want to talk, you know where to find me."

It's barely there, but there's a hint of something soft in Damian's features when he nods and walks around Clark to get to his room. 

##

_"This is Kori's voicemail, leave a message."_

BIP. 

"Kori, it's me again. I'm sorry."

##

_"Congratulation, you've reached the fabulous Dick Grayson ! Too bad I'm busy doing something else ! Leave a message!"_

BIP. 

Kori hangs up without saying a word. 

 

 

 


	5. A fifth word to sum up everything I feel

When Bruce's phone rings at six in the morning, Clark honestly considers destroying the device with his thermic vision until he realizes it's not a call but an alarm. He groans and blinks, adjusting to the dim morning light.   
“Waking up this early is a sign of hatred toward yourself.”   
“Believe it or not but managing a multimillion company actually takes time.” Bruce replies.   
“May I quote you on that ?”  
“No you may not. Bruce Wayne doesn't work, that's a known fact.”  
Clark smiles at the ceiling, feeling more than he sees Bruce stand up and head toward the bathroom. In the twenty minutes it takes Bruce to shower and shave, Clark manages to make the bed and get cleaned and dressed in spare clothes he left in the guest room several weeks earlier.   
“We need to talk.” He states when Bruce exits the bathroom and makes his way to his walk in closet.   
“I'd rather avoid it.” Bruce says.   
Clark sits on the bench at the center of the closet. This room is as big as his living room in Metropolis and the light here is way better. Racks and racks of slacks, mostly black or grey, piles and piles of neatly folded shirts, countless drawers that he knows are full of ties, watches, and socks that may or may not cost half his rent. And Bruce makes a point to turn his back to him as he select a suit for the day, only wearing a towel around his hips and wet hair that drip on his back.   
When he stops moving, when he puts the clothes back on an empty shelf and turns to face Clark, it's a silent invitation for the kryptonian to stand up and touch him.  
“Let's avoid it then.” Clark says softly. His hands are on Bruce hips and their chest are close but not enough. “But I'm here to stay, and help you through whatever is happening in this stubborn head of yours.”   
Their kiss is minty, slow and even Clark is surprised by how tender it manages to be.   
“Thank you.”   
“You deserve it.” Clark whispers. He wraps his arms around Bruce, buries his nose in the crook of his neck. His aftershave smells faintly of vetiver and lavender, his heart beats at a steady rhythm. “Can you be late this morning ?”  
“I might call my secretary and tell her there's a sexy alien in my room and it would be really rude to let him alone.” Bruce says and they kiss again, a little less chaste this time.   
Somewhere in the manor, someone opens a window and Clark can hear a curse that makes him laugh a little and pull Bruce toward the window, lifting the curtains with two fingers to check on the flying form of Conner already disappearing in the rising sun.   
“I may have a few objections about having too many metas in this house.” Bruce says frowning at the sun.   
“Two is company.” Clark smiles.   
“And three is a party... parties involving super powers usually take a wrong turn.”  
“We'll figure out something like a code so everyone gets a little intimacy.” Clark smiles. “But for now you should really make this call because I intend to use of some very dirty tricks to get you back to bed for at least two more hours.”  
“Don't flatter yourself.”

##  
Tim wakes up with a headache which is a clear sign of him sleeping too much. His ribs and arm ache, he slept in a strange position that strained his neck and this morning already feels like a wasted one.   
The place next to him in the bed is empty but still warm, the pillow is still flat where Conner put his head. Tim's heart clenches for a second.   
He left he thinks, then shakes his head. Don't be stupid Drake, he woke up before you. Don't panick.   
Showering without getting his cast wet is like solving a rubik's cub in the dark and wrapping it with a plastic bag prove to be useless days ago.   
He fights with the towel then his clothes. By the time he gets to the kitchen, he feels even worse than when he woke up.   
And it hits him again. Conner is nowhere to be seen.   
He's gone.  
Tim takes a deeps breath, tries to shake away the invasive though. There's one hundred million reasons for Conner not to be in this damn kitchen, none of them involve the clone breaking up with him without any explanation like the last time. Still his hands are shaking when he pours himself a mug of lukewarm coffee.   
What did I do this time?  
Tim groans and gulps his first sip of coffee, hoping it will help him clear his mind.   
He finishes the mug and feels slightly nauseated.   
What can I do to bring him back ?  
He checks his phone and, as suspected, there's no text from Conner or missed call. He turns on his computer, checks emails, slightly think that he should write to Lucius about getting back to work as soon as his arm feel better. But the thoughts never leave his mind and they and they echoes in the quiet manor like ghosts.   
He's about to puke his coffee.   
I'd give up everything for him to be here  
He's shaking now. Waves after waves of panic make him lose his breath and he tries to lie down on his bed but it smells like Conner. The library is too dark. The hallways are too cold and there's too many weapons in the batcave.   
I'd do anything to have him back.  
Sometimes soon, someone will enter the kitchen and force him to smile and pretend it's okay. He craves it, he needs a reason to fake it until he makes it. Until then, he clutches his second mug of coffee and a half eaten toast in his hand and the intrusive though loop in his head. Everything he might have screw up since Conner came back. Everything he could do to have him back. It goes from not drinking coffee ever again to … anything.   
I'd kill to have him back...  
“Tim?”  
Conner's voice is like a punch in the ribs and Tim almost jumps out of his skin, his mug crashes on the floor, shatters in pieces, splashing his bare feet with lukewarm liquid.   
Conner is here. Conner did not leave and Tim feels both relieved and stupid. It hurts to jump on his feet and press himself against Conner's body but he grits his teeth, trying no to cry from relief.   
“Hey...” The clone whispers wrapping his arms around him. “Don't forget to breathe!” He rocks Tim sightly against his chest.   
“I... You were gone and I panicked...” Tim mumbles. He feels stupid now and a little ashamed for not trusting Conner more. The clone chuckles.   
“Quick trip to Smalville to say hi to Ma and bring clothes. Plus... Superdads were having sex and … I can do without hearing them.”  
Tim doesn't feel like laughing, he really doesn't, but he grins when the mental image of Conner waking up to sex sounds pops in his head.   
“Did you take your pills ?” Conner asks again as Tim fumbles in the cupboards to find another mug.   
“No. They mess with my head.”  
“Yeah because your head is such a safe space lately ...” Conner rolls his eyes and pops open the yellow tube waiting next to the coffee machine.   
“I'm getting better!”  
“Hence the panic when I'm gone for an hour.”  
Tim can hear the patience running thin in his lover's voice and he reluctantly take the pills from his hand.   
“Fine. But I'll stop as soon as possible.”  
Conner nods. “doc tompkins said it should not take more than six months knowing how resilient you are.”  
Six months seem like forever but Tim doesn't say anything and swallow the antidepressant with a new shot of espresso.   
“We need to talk.” He says. “Now.”  
Conner stops looking for a mop and sits next to Tim with a serious look.   
“Ask.” He says.   
“Why did you leave … when we broke up ? Why ?”  
Conner bites his lips. He's been asking himself the question for months now and he almost perfected the simplest answer.   
“It took me years to define myself as a person.” He says looking at his hands clasped on his jeans. “Not an experiment, not a tool, not a clone but a person. And you helped me through the process... But that night... It felt like I was back to being a tool, not a person anymore, not someone you loved but someone you used. And It's a strong no for me.” He raises his eyes to meet Tim's gaze. “I'll never be someone's tool again, not even for someone I love as much as you.”  
The words hurt because they are true and Tim nods, feeling ashamed again.   
“I'm sorry.”  
“I know I should have told you but … It took me time to figure what was wrong and then ...”  
Tim nods. And then Conner died.   
“I'm sorry for abusing you.” He says. “It won't happen again.”  
Conner frowns. “You never abused me! You can't physically force me to do anything Tim!”  
“Making you feel like you were not a person anymore is a form of abuse.”   
“It was. But you were in a bad place, you did not realize and never intended to hurt me. I know that.” Conner says. He takes Tim' hand in his. “I should have known better. I should have stopped you that night, and comforted you, this was what you needed and I failed to give it to you.”  
“It was not your job to take care of me ...”  
“It is now.” Conner says softly. He hooks a finger under Tim's chin and force him to meet his gaze. “If you want me to, I'll stay and take care of you.”  
Tim slowly closes his eyes and shivers violently like he's trying to suppress a sob. It takes him a few seconds before he manages to nod and look at Conner again, this time, with his hand wrapped around the clone's fingers.   
“If you want me, I promise to never make you feel like you're not a person.”  
“I like the sound of that.”  
“And when I'll fail, because I will, promise to tell me right away.”  
“I will.”  
They should kiss to settle the deal, but neither of them feel like doing it in the middle of the kitchen where anyone could see them. Whatever happens between them must stay between them, like sharing their relationship to the world might endanger it.   
So Conner cleans up the broken mug as Tim runs a second pot of coffee, and they sit side by side in silence.  
It feels perfectly fine. 

 

##  
It's not unusual for Barbara to meet Dick at this diner, a few streets away from the police station and it will be a good thing to talk to her during his lunch break because the last few days have been...   
well... it feels like everything is falling apart and there is not even a major threat upon their heads right now.   
When a tall redhead enters the diner, he automatically gesture to her, but realize too late it's not Barbara. Kori tilts her head and comes close to his table.   
“Sorry” he says. “I'm waiting for Babs.”  
Kori frowns. “ I'm here to see her too.”   
They stare at each other for a few seconds before their phones bip almost a the same time with a text from Barbara   
“Talk it out !”  
Kori sighs and finally slides on the bench across Dick table.   
“Remind me not to tell her about my concerns, ever again.” She groans.   
“You were concerned ?”   
She shoots him an incredulous look but doesn't answer as the waitress comes to take their order. There's a moment of uncomfortable silence before she speaks softly.   
“Dick... You... Freaked out last night, of course I was concerned !”  
“You made a poor job of showing it.”  
“What was I supposed to do ? Break the door and take you to the ER ? Hello mister doctor, sorry for disturbing you but my boyfriend had a panick attack and I'm worried ?”  
“Fine !” Dick grunts. “ I overreacted okay ? Are you happy now ?”  
She shakes her head.   
“You did not overreact. Something I did triggered something in you, and I'm sorry for that.” She says softly. She extends a hand to touch his on the sticky table. “Barbara told me about what happened last month, about the toxin and how bad you reacted to it. I'm sorry.”  
She stops talking when their food comes and Dick starts eating immediately. It feels wrong, everything feels wrong and Kori cannot blame it on her lack of sleep.  
“I screwed up, I'm sorry.” She says again.   
Suddenly, the few people in the diner seem way too many, the smells of food are overwhelming, the clicking of cutlery against the plates are …   
“I did not know how to tell you.” Dick says out of nowhere. He dropped his fork in his salad and his left hand is now wrapped around Kori's. “I had a very bad experience with that toxin last month and I had no idea it could still trigger that reaction... I... It took me by surprise.”  
“What happened ?”  
He shakes his head, closing his eyes. “I'd rather not discuss it here when I have five more hours of work to do and I can't afford to be sloppy on the job.”  
Kori nods.   
“Want me to come on patrol with you tonight so we can talk ?”  
“No. Barbara will patrol for me. She owes me that much.”   
He has a cheeky smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, but his thumb caress her hand softly before he lets her go to get back to his food and it feels like the world starts to turn again.   
“Sparing session tonight ?” She suggest. “We always talk best when we do something else.”  
“You're just looking for an excuse to kick my ass !”  
“I'm not Barbara.” Kori smiles. “And if you don't want your butt kicked, you just have to step up your game officer Grayson.”   
Under the table, she feels his boots between her ankles, trying to hit her playfully and she traps his foot between her legs.They look at each other across the table and when he smiles, she feels a rush of afection warming her.   
The diner feels comfortable again. 

##

Sparing in their apartment would bring them a lot of trouble not to mention replacing the furniture so Dick and Kori usually use the basement of Wayne Industries tower for training.   
“Weapons ?” Kori asks rolling her shoulders.   
“We're supposed to talk, not behead each other.”  
“No weapons then.” She smiles. She steps on the training area, her bare feet sinking slightly on the mat, and takes a fighting stance. They're both wearing used up training gear and the crude neon light does nothing to cover any of Dick's scars and most recent bruises on his bare arms. She takes a mental note to avoid hitting certain areas and wait for him to make a move.   
His jumps are so high, so gracious she sometimes think he can fly and doesn't know it. He lands behind her and she dodges his fist, crouches on the floor, extends her legs behind her trying to make him fall. He jumps away, turns back and hit again. She catches his fist in her hand and he twists his arm so fast she doesn't have time to let go of him before her own arm is painfully twisted behind her back. She smiles.   
“You're faster than I remember.”  
“And I'm holding back.”  
A strong push on her legs make them stumble a few feet back and she manages to escape his grip, running to the other side of the mat before jumping on him as fast as she can, her arms wrap around his torso and her impulse is enough to make him lose his balance. They roll on the mat, panting and smiling.   
“Penny for your though ?” He ask.   
“You're the one who's supposed to speak your mind.” She retorts. She's busy checking his hands and realizes too late that he got a foot on her belly and kicks hard enough to make her fly a few feets away from him. “So much for you holding back.” she grunts.   
He grins, jumping on his feet, his fists still ready to punch. “Maybe I missed this more than I thought.”  
“What did I miss when I was away ?” She asks. They turn around each other slowly, waiting for an opening in the other guard.   
“Not much except every feminist in Gotham going after every man with a toxin triggering their guilt toward women.” They're trying to punch each other, blocking every move with their arms, faster and faster, their mind half on the fight and half on the conversation. “Turns out I'm the only one in this goddamn family who isn't imune to it.”   
“Barbara said you were affected for a week.” He's pushing so hard against her arms that she feels every muscle of her back fight against the pressure until she manages to push him back slightly and punch him in the ribs then roll away from him. “Who did you feel guilty toward?”  
“No one.” He retorts. He charges her in a quick succession of jumps, kicks and punches and she dodges or block him everytime. “Turns out I have PTSD from being raped.”   
Kori doesn't dodge this time and she falls with his next hit, barely feeling the pain over the schock of what he just said. He lands above her with a cynical smile and his fist clenched above her head.   
“Gotcha.”  
For a few seconds, neither of them move or talk they just catch their breath, looking at each other.   
“Did you tell me that just to catch me off guard ?” She asks softly, opening her hands in a sign of rendition.   
“No.” He rolls next to her and lays on his back on the mat. “I was... in a bad situation a few years ago. My partner, Tarentula... she shot a man who knew my identity so I wouldn't have to do it.” The words are hard to tell, like razor blades cutting through him with every sentence but at least, he can avoid her gaze and look at the bright lights on the ceiling. “I was in a very bad place and she took advantage of it. This is what the toxin made me live over and over again until it wore off.”  
For a moment, she doesn't say a word and the silence is like a heavy weight on his chest, his hears are still buzzing with the rush of blood from their sparring.   
“And then I did the same.” Kori whispers. “You were in a bad place last night, you were worried and scared for your family … and it felt like I was taking advantage of it...”  
“It did. I know you were just trying to distract me. My brains knows it but my gut … my gut tells me that, sometimes, people don't even see the person behind the mask or the jokes.” Words come easier now and he closes his eyes. Golden dots fly on the dark screen of his eyelids. “That everyone is so used to me being the easy nice man who likes to have sex and bad puns … that when I'm in a bad place... I'm not even allowed to feel bad anymore. I hate it.”  
“I'm sorry.” She says softly. “I'll do my best so it won't happen again.”   
He feels her hand reach for his on the mat and he squeezes her fingers.   
“And I'm sorry for not telling you, for pushing you away like I did … I … I thought I was over it. I was wrong.”  
She doesn't have anything to say to that, she just rolls on her side and puts her head close to his shoulder, not touching him, but close enough that he can feel her presence.   
“And I'm sorry for complaining to you about Bruce. It was insensitive of me.”  
“No it wasn't.” She says. “ I'm the one who overreacted. You were scared for Tim and he wasn't here when he should have been …”  
“You lost your entire family, your entire world, And I'm here complaining because my father figure took a vacation at the wrong time.”  
“Dick … You lost your entire world too when you were nine.”  
“I found another world, I found a family. I'm okay.”  
He feels her shuffle next to him and blinks a little, adjusting to the light. She's sitting next to him now and her cheeks are red from the fight, her eyes shine with tears.   
“Don't you think I found another family too ?” She asks. He sits without answering. “Do you really think I would have stayed on Earth if it wasn't for you and the friends I made along the way ?” She puts her hand on his cheek, her thumb on his lips. “You helped me in my worst time. How do I help you now ?”   
“I don't know.”   
They're so close that their noses bump against each other, their lips meet and for a moment everything feels right.  
“Then let's find out together. Like a family does.”   
“More like a couple does.” He smiles. “I don't kiss my brothers that way.”  
She laughs even if it hurts her ribs.   
They pretend to be a normal couple as they exit the tower, she doesn't fly, she rides with him on his motorbike and it's quite fun actually. They're bone tired when they reach their appartment and they exchange a quick look before heading to the shower together.   
The first time they did it, it was to save some time. It never worked, mostly because they both fall almost asleep under the hot spray almost every time. But it's comforting and warm and they take this as an opportunity to check on each other's bruises and injuries.   
“How do you explain this to your cops coworkers ?” Kori asks, soaping lightly Dick's back that is mostly a gigantic hematoma, a rainbow of blues and green turning to violet that seems more painful than it is.   
“I don't. I hide it.”  
“You can't hide every bruise.”   
“I tell them my girlfriend likes kinky stuff.”   
She snorts and pulls him under the water to rinse. Kissing in the shower feels like drowning but they do it anyway, even if they taste like soap and slip on the wet tile.   
“It was raining the day it happened.” Dick says. He closes his eyes and lays his forehead on Kori's shoulder.   
“Do I need to turn off the water ?” She asks concerned.   
He clutches at her, his skin is warm under her hands and her hair clung to both their bodies like a wet cloth.   
“No.” He mutters. “Just... I don't know what might trigger the memory so … the more you know...”  
She nods and kiss his temple, leans against the wall of the shower and lets the water run down their bodies and down the drain.   
It's unusually early when they slip under the covers , listening to the faint sounds of cars on the street but they both feel exhausted, more from their conversation than from the training or the day.   
“Things won't sudenly turn perfect just because we talked once, you know ?” Dick says softly.   
“I know. Recovery takes time.” She carefully pull him toward her and he rest his head on the crook of her neck. “But we'll manage.”  
It sounds like a promise, and it's the most comforing thing Dick heard in a long time.   
##

“A chain's strongest point is at its weakest spot.” Clark says out of the blue.   
It's two in the morning and Bruce just crashed into bed after his patrol. Nothing out of the ordinary, which means no additional bruises on his body which is a good thing in itself. He groans and shoves his head on the pillow.  
“It's way too late for grandpa wise words”  
He feels the bed dip next to him and big hands on his back, gently touching the tense muscles of his shoulders, avoiding the bruises on his back from an encounter with Killer Croc weeks ago, massaging softly his aching body. It feels good and Bruce is well aware that this is a dirty trick Clark is using against him.   
“You're trying to soften me before you tell me something I don't wnna hear.” He states, twisting his neck to look at his lover.   
“Softening you is precisely what you don't want me to do.” Clark points. “And it's precisely what makes us stronger together than apart.”   
“I'm not stronger if I melt next to someone.” Bruce grumbles. He regrets the words as soon as they escape his mouth. He pushes Clark away, not letting the journalist say anything and sits on the bed, ready to pretend this never happened. Clark smiles fondly. It's infuriating how easily he can have Bruce on pins and needles.  
“Yes you are.” The kryptonian retorts. “It's what makes you a hero, it's what makes you so strong, the fact that you have a heart that melts next to the ones you love” He sits next to Bruce, no longer touching him, no longer looking at him. He folds himself, knees to his chest, arms wrapped around his bent legs.  
Bruce has to fight the urge to mimic his posture and focus on the subject instead.  
“That doesn't make any sense.” He groans.   
“Really ?” Clark looks at him now, his eyes are shining and he grins wickedly. “You really think that it doesn't make you stronger ?”  
“It gives my enemies leverage against me. Every person I love is in danger because of what I do. Even my family is in danger because of who I am !”  
“But you love them. So you protect them. And for some, you taught them how to defend themselves.”  
“It doesn't make my any stronger. Only less focused.”   
Clark smiles again like he has Bruce exactly where he wants him. He's still sitting with his chin resting on his knees but he talks anyway.   
“It makes you stronger because it reminds you what you're fighting for. It led you to create your own family long after you lost yours. It makes you care for the ones no one cares about. It's exactly why you became Batman in the first place. Because you have a huge heart and couldn't stand anyone suffering like you did.”   
Bruce is this close to tell him to shut up, but he doesn't do it. Partly because Clark is right. And mostly because he wants to hear what he has to say.   
“It's because your heart melts in front of children that you took Dick with you. And you were scared for him so you trained him, protected him and led him to protect others. And he's now your best support. What was once your weak spot is now your greatest strengh. And I have countless examples of that. So if our relationship seems to be a liability to you, we'll work it out so it will be your greatest force one day. It already is mine.”  
“You can annihilate mountains with your eyes Clark!”  
“Yes.” Clark unwrpas himself and crawls closer to Bruce. “And it's still nothing compared to what I could do for you.”   
“You're a sap.”  
“You need a sap in your life.”   
Their faces are so close now that Bruce has to close his eyes, their breathes melt and he must admit something in Clark's speech rings a bell in his mind.   
“You mentioned Dick for a reason.” He mutters, his lips gazing Clark's now.   
“Talk to him. You're In a bad place when you two are fighting.”  
“I'm not fighting him.”   
“Good. Make up with him. And make out with me.”   
They kiss, slowly, with their eyes closed and they break apart.   
“From now on, no more mentioning our respective families.” Bruce says, no longer trying not to mimic Clark's smile.   
They kiss again, and this time, it's Bruce that crawls toward Clark and wraps himself around his large frame. They lay on the bed, side by side, ignoring the pillows and kissing, groping each oher like teenagers and it feels like the most normal thing in the world.   
Open mouthed kisses that makes them feel like they're part of each other.  
Caresses that make them feel warm and secure.   
Falling asleep, their breathing synched and praises on their lips.   
It feels like the most normal thing in the world. Granted. As certain as the sun would rise the next day.   
##

As incredible as it sounds, Damian is studying in the library when Tim stumbles in the room, his laptop carefully balanced on his cast, a mug of coffee in his free hand.   
They make eye contact and Damian nods his silent agreeing of Tim's presence in the same room. Tim manages to set laptop and coffee on the study table, extracts a mouse from his pocket and starts to work in silence.   
“Miss Kyle's list ?” Damian asks.   
Tim nods. “ Seems like half the men of Gotham need a reminder that women are not disposable properties.”   
Damins winces. “Seems like a lost cause.”  
“It probably is one.” Tim sighs. “But it's the only work I can do right now.” He waves his cast to illustrate his words.   
“Do you feel better ?” Damian asks softly.   
Tim nods. “Not good yet, but better yes.”   
They stay silent a few seconds before both of them lower their eyes on their respective work.   
“What are you studying ?” Tim asks after a few moments of typing with one hand.   
“Chemistry.”  
“didn't you scare your chemistry teacher enough for him to resign last week ?”  
Damian nods. “He was a moron anyway. Father says he will spare me another teacher if I study by myself.”  
“Aren't you already like college grade in chemistry ?”  
Damian nods. “ And in physics and various languages.”   
“Don't brag.”  
“I brag if I want Drake !”   
Damian is ready to yell some more but Tim smirks behind his laptop and there's a sensation of déjà-vu there. It feels like they fought about this exact same topic in this exact same room and Damian knows that after that, he clicked his tongue and they kept working in silence. He can't remember when that was, but it was time where Tim was mostly okay.   
“You're really better.”  
“Told you so!” Tim rolls hs eyes and sighs “Are you afflicted with selective hearing on top of everything else ?”  
Damian looks at him without blinking for longer than any human being should be capable of.   
“I'm going to Nanda Parbat after I finish this.” He says pointing to his huge book and pile of papers on the table. “If you still want to bathe in the Lazarus Pit, there should be a seat for you in the batplane.”   
“You're not allowed to pilot the plane !”   
“Do you want to heal Drake ?”  
“fine. You pilot the plane. Only if Bruce agrees to it !”  
“He already did.”  
##

He's walking confidently in the hallways that all look the same, falling into his old habit of not making any sound, not putting a foot on the wrong floor slat, making tiny signals toward the fine walls where traps are hidden.   
When there's someone on their way, he manages to look down at them even if most assassins are taller than him. His Grandfather might be dead, his mother might have put a price on his head, he's still the heir of the demon and everyone here knows what he can do.   
It used to be a ritual to try and kill him for any assassin who wanted to be the next Raz Al Ghul. It used to be training for him to track them and kill them.   
It's not anymore because he chose another path, but he's still deadly and they still remember it.   
Door after door, Conner and Tim get less and less chatty.   
“Are you a natural or did you have to train to be that much of a brat ?” Vonner asks as Damian dismisses three assassins with a few sharp words.   
“Talent without practice is nothing but a bad habit.” Damian retorts with a smirk that's not entirely devoid of mischief.   
“Did they hide the Pit lower than last time ?” Tim grunts. “I don't remember it being so far away from the entrance.”  
“Two more corridors and ...”  
Damian stops and doesn't finish his sentence. The words fly away when he sees her.   
She wears the assassins uniform, hair cut short so no one can grab them during a fight, sword by her side, her socks don't make any noises on the wooden floor and she's looking at him like she always did: without a trace of fear.   
He can feel the two others behind his back, waiting for him to dismiss her.   
“You survived.” He states flatly.   
She nods.   
“Who is it ?” Tim asks.   
Damian remembers her name. At least he remembers the name she was given by his grandfather when he introduced her to his harem. It feels like a lifetime ago.   
“Someone who climbed the social ladder fast since I left.” He answers dryly. “This League has lower standard every year.”   
She smiles. The only part of her that moves are the corners of her lips and the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathes.   
“Next corridor turn left, then to your left again after the stairs, I'll meet you at the Pit.” Damian says again, changing his stance so he's ready to fight. He watches Tim and Conner go ahead and only moves after they disappear at the corner of the hallway.   
He takes a step toward her, no longer ready to draw his sword, dropping the act he put up only for Tim and Conner.   
“They spared you.” He states.  
She nods again.   
“I enjoy seing you alive. And I'm sorry I couldn't mak it easier.”  
This time, she shakes her head, closing her eyes slowly. She takes a step forward, close enough to touch him now. She's still taller than him like she was years ago, but she still look at him like no one did before he came to Gotham. She still looks at him like a human being, with fondness and sadness in her eyes. He used to hate it. He no longer does.   
She raises a hand to his face. He notices her red fingertips and cringes a little. It's an ancient ritual that even his grandfather never went through: replacing the nails by brass claws, making the slightest touch deadly. It's even more painful than it sounds but he's not surprised she did it. She probably did way worse since the last time he saw her.  
“I'm sorry.” He says again, trying to fight the lump of guilt that blocks his throat.   
She shakes her head again, her claws are so close to his eyes that she could blind him but she just puts her hand on his cheek. It's warm and smells like metal, and she blinks slowly.   
The touch lasts just long enough for Damian to understand way more than words could convey, and then she's gone and he's alone in the corridor with his guilt and her forgivness.   
He honestly thought he would never see her again. But her presence here means he has one less death on his slate and it cannot be a bad thing.   
Her presence here also explains why the League is still active after his mother left. He smirks and makes his way to the Pit where he find Tim and Conner side by side a few feets away from the green liquid.   
“So, both of you finally realized what it cost to go into the Pit?” He asks dryly.   
“I have to be dead.” Tim says. “Or dying at least or else ...”  
“The Pit might kill you for good.” Conner ends the sentence. “I can do it.”  
Damian snorts with disdain. “Oh please! You couldn't hurt him to save your life!”   
The clone doesn't answer but his clenched fists and jaws tell a long story about his inner trouble.   
“I'll do it.” Damian says again.   
“I bet you would be volunteer for killing me.” Tim groans.   
“Would you rather die from the hand of your beloved ? Or be useless for another three months while your arm is healing ?”  
Tim sighs.   
“Fine. How do we do this?”  
Damian moves so quickly that Tim doesn't see him coming. He jumps just high enough to give himself leverage over Tim and grab his head, taking him with him on his fall. He hears the sound of vertebrae cracking and the last gulping of air of Tim.   
He hears Conner yelling as he falls on the ground, Tim's lifeless body in his arms. He has tunnel vision a he rolls on his side and project the body onto the pit with all the force he can find.   
“Quickly” He rasps out of breath just before he dodges to avoid one of Conner's fists.   
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ?” the clone yells.   
“Sparing him the fear of iminent death even for a short time.” Damian groans, getting back on his feet. “Now watch out, he'll be pissed and slightly murderous when he'll come back... It won't last long, but you'lll have to control him.”  
“Oh, you can kill him but god forbid you help him after !”   
Damian clicks his tongue, the sound gets lost into the bubbling coming from the Pit.   
“He was trained by my father and Lady Shiva. The only reason why I can beat his ass is because he holds back, because he doesn't want to really harm me. But he's coming back without these inhibitions. And I'm rather fond of my head still attached to my body.”  
Damian could bet his inheritance that Conner would gladly behead him at this exact moment, but they don't have time to fight more because Tim is already emerging from the pit. Covered in green goo, already breaking his cast with his free hand.   
“Tim... Are you alright?” Conner asks. He takes a step further toward the Pit and Tim looks at him for a split second before he jumps on him , tackle him to the ground and run away from him.   
Conner and Damian exchange a glance.   
“That was... unexpected....” Damian mutters.   
Conner is already running after Tim, yelling his name and Damian curses his legs for being too short to follow their rhythm. He tracks them, first following the green goo that Tim drops behind him, then following his instincts and the screams he hears coming from … His heart clenches. It comes from the harem.   
In a flash he sees the scars, the red claws and a few things start to make sense.   
He's not surprised when he enters the room to see Conner curled around Tim's frame. He's not surprised to see the woman he met earlier there. The only surprising thing is the amount of blood on the plush carpet.   
“What happened ?” He asks.   
The woman looks at him with her eyes full of tears and shakes her head.   
“What happened?” Damian asks again stepping closer to Conner and Tim. The clone uncurls himself slightly, still holding back a reticent Tim still growling like an animal. He forces Tim to extend an arm in Damian's direction. There's blood there, lot of it, and green goo dripping from profound bite marks.  
“He … ripped away his own skin with his teeth...” Conner stutters before retracting Tim's arm in the safety of his. “The water from the pit is already healing him but … Why... why would he do that ?”  
“Because the Pit … it messes with your mind.” Damian says softly.   
In Conners arms, Tim slowly gets calmer.   
“It's going to be okay soon.” He promises.   
He looks at the woman, that stands on the other side of the room.   
“Did you succeed ?” he asks her.   
She shakes her head.   
It makes sense. The amount of blood on the carpet makes sense. Most of it is not Tim's blood.  
“I'm sorry.” he says.   
“What are you talking about ?” Conner asks.   
In the blink of an eye, the woman disappeared and Damian only shakes his head and focuses his attention on Tim.   
“We'll let him rest for a few hours, then we're going back … Home.”  
Conner nods but as Tim calmed down in his arms, he started to notice a few things going wrong, with this room, with Damian, with the strange woman …   
“You have more than history here.” He states softly.   
Damian nods.   
“I have unfinished business here. But it's none of your concern.”  
Conner doesn't say a word, which in his language doesn't mean that he dropped the subject, but for now, he focuses on Tim that fell asleep on his arms. There are beds on this room, clean and neat, covered in colorful silks and pillows. He carefully lays Tim on one of them and sits next to him.   
“I'll watch over him. Go finish your business.”  
Damian shakes his head.   
“Now is not the time. I'll deal with that later.”  
“Who's this woman ?”  
“If I guess correctly, she's the new head of the League.”  
“Does it make her a problem ?”  
Damian lowers his eyes on the carpet. Blood stains turned the fibers crusty. He shakes his head.   
“I don't think so. And if she becomes one, I'll deal with her.”  
Conner nods and once again his attention is drawn back to the sleeping form of Tim.   
“Take care of him.” Damian says. “I don't want to have to go through this again.”  
“Killing him ? Though it was your biggest fantasy?”  
Damian shruggs. “I don't like to see the people I care about suffer. Even the people I despise like Drake.”   
Conner smirks.   
##

“What's wrong ?” Dick asks as soon as his helmet is removed.   
The cave is as dark as usual and his motorbike spreads the scent of gasoline around him. Bruce is sitting by the computer, cowl hanging between his shoulders, head in his hands like he's dead tired or sporting a headache.   
“Do I need to have a problem to want to talk to you?”   
“Usually? Yes.” Dick grunts putting the motorcycle on the crutch. He sits on the second chair next to the computer. “So, what's wrong ?” he asks again.   
Bruce can see how tense he is and Dick knows it, it's upseting but he can't help it. He's trained to never give away anything he doesn't want to. He's quite a good actor. But with Bruce, it's not the same. Bruce knows, Bruce sees through him and it's infuriating that Dick cannot keep something from him.  
“You've been upset since I mentionned that Damian is of age to get the sex talk.”  
Dick crosses his arms. “Of course I'm upset ! First it was very, very uncomfortable when you gave me the talk. And second, you lost your credibility when you got an unwanted kid yourself !”  
Bruce doesn't say a word, he just looks at Dick right in the eyes, with that stern face he makes when he's disappointed that Dick neglected something.   
“How could you be so stupid Bruce ?”  
“It took you years to ask this. Why not sooner?”  
Dick wants to show his disdain by his posture but his arms are already crossed over his chest, his feet are already planted on the ground like a statue. He lays casually his hip against the computer table and stares at Bruce.   
“You're not only upset about that.” Bruce states.”  
“I'm upset about a lot of things Bruce.”  
“List them.”  
It sounds both like a plea and an order and Dick shakes his head.   
“I can't. I wouldn't know where to begin.”  
“Begin with Tim.”  
Rage blooms in Dick's chest and he uncross his arms to grip the table to ground himself. He grits his teeth, tries not to let a flow of remorse and anger escape his lips.   
“I blame myself as much as I blame you.” He say after a few seconds of recollecting himself. “We should have seen it coming. He shouldn't be able to hide things from us if we truly … If we … We failed him Bruce. We failed as a family.”  
“I am his surrogate.” Bruce says softly. “I failed as a father. But you have nothing to blame yourself for.”  
“He looks up to me. I'm his mentor as much as you are. And I was stuck on my own problems and neglected him.” Dick sits on the chair next to Bruce. “I failed as a brother and as a leader.”  
“Then learn your lesson and never let that happen again.” Bruce says. “I sure will.”  
“How ? You'll interrogate him every week? Bug his flat? Monitor his serotonin level ?” Dick grins.   
“I don't know how ...” Bruce admits. “But the fact that he did not come to us means... he probably lacks confidence in us. And I'll work on that.”  
“He doesn't trust Damian either. Yet he's the only one who cared enough to see something was off with Tim. And I think it was a bad idea to let them go to Nanda Parbat.”  
“That's why Conner is with them.” Bruce smiles. “I'm not blind enough to let Tim and Damian alone in a plane.”  
Dick smirks, crosses his legs, fidget for a few seconds before Bruce sighs.   
“Speak.”  
“Damian chose you over his mother, that's a good thing. But why did you choose his mother ? I mean … Bruce, of all the women in the world, why Thalia ? Why did you trust her ?”  
“I did not.” Bruce says softly. That's the part of the discussion he dreaded for weeks now. And he's about to jump into cold waters, trying his best to protect Dick even when disclosing to him an information he carefully kept to himself for years. Dick looks at him, eyes full of questions, so much like the kid he adopted decades ago, and yet really different.   
“I did not trust her. She drugged me.”  
The words came out bluntly, hash on his lips and he almost regret them when he sees Dick frown.   
“Tell me she bested you in combat and forced you to … well no, don't tell me any of that.”  
“She poured me a drink. I drank. I was in love and stupid.”  
Dick snorts and takes his head in his hands.   
“And I'm supposedly the slut of the family. You told me countless times to be wary of my emotions, not to let them cloud my judgement... And you're the one who got drugged by the least trustworthy woman in the world... Fuck Bruce... this should be a bad joke.”  
“It's not.”  
The comment makes its way on Dick's mind. For the first time in weeks, he puts himself in Bruce's shoes and it's an uncomfortable situation. How do you tell to the people you trained that you fell in the most common trap ? How does the batman admits that love made him do a mistake?   
And how much of a bond he should have had with Talia for letting his guard down so much..   
“Why didn't you tell me ? You let me be angry at you for something you were barely responsible of … Bruce... God knows I've made my fare share of stupid mistakes...”  
“I know what happened with Tarentula... I wouldn't risk reactivating any lingering trauma.”   
“But you're telling me now...why ?”  
“Because this secret doesn't make us any good.”   
They stare at each other for a few seconds and Dick sits next to Bruce, turned to the computer.   
“I guess it's a sign of … respect ?”  
“Sort of.” Bruce mutters.   
“Does Damian know ?”  
Bruce shakes his head. “Unless Talia told him, I don't think he knows. And I won't tell him. He deserves to keep what's left of his love for his mother.”  
Dick nods and leans in his seat with a sigh.  
“Alfred told me about your fight with Kori.”  
“I accused her of … I don't know actually. I think I was worried that she would look down on me like Damian does.”  
“Damian doesn't look down on you !”   
“Come on Bruce! The kid thinks I'm unworthy of being a part of your family !”  
“I think no such thing of you Grayson.”  
Dick almost jumps out of his skin when Damian lands on his feet after a jump from the balcony of the cave. It feels so safe in the cave, he was so into his conversation with Bruce that he didn't hear the kid come in.  
Damian steps forward until he's face to face with Dick.   
“You made a tolerable Batman while Father was gone. You earned my respect.”  
Dick winces. “Thanks I guess.”  
“Besides, Koriand'r chose to be with you for some obscure reason. She wouldn't live with someone not worthy of her. She just have low self esteem.”  
Bruce makes a noise between a grunt and a chuckle which makes Damian turn his attention to him.   
“You tried to protect me.” He states. “ And for that I am grateful, father, but Mother did not have your gentleness. She told me how I was conceived the day I asked how babies are make.”  
“Am I the only one who wants to hit her with a truck ?” Dick asks dryly. Damian raises his eyes to look at him with a serious face.   
“She wanted to be sure I would strive for perfection to justify the hassle of creating me.” He turns his eyes back to his father. “You seem to be quite difficult to drug Father.”  
“I'll take that as a compliment.” Bruce sighs. “I'm sorry you had to know about it.”He takes his son's arms in his hands, all he can feel under the thick fabric of his shirt are muscles and bones. No trace of baby fat anywhere except in his cheeks still round, no trace of any softness he sees in kids on the streets. No trace of childhood and it breaks his heart a little. He himself had a childhood, innocnt and carefree when his parents were alive, after their death, Alfred made sure he had somehow a little of the fun normal kids were allowed. Dick had a childhood. Bruce remembers afternoons spent playing sports with him, and later, nights playing video games at which Bruce was so bad I made Dick cry with laughter. Jason... He made sure to compensate as much as he could for his lack of childhood and Tim had one too. Not a perfect one, but still far better than the life of training Damian went through.   
He wraps his arms around his son and hugs him ignoring the grunt of embarrassment coming from Damian.   
“Father, I'm not a five years old !”   
“Let me treat you like one for a minute.” Bruce says. “Please.”   
Damian makes a point to click his tongue with a skeptical look, but he wraps his arms around his father's frame anyway. The hug lasts more than a minute.   
“How's Tim?” Dick asks when father and son are two distinct entities again.   
“Almost fine and still as incompetent as ever.” Damian grins. “He failed at killing himself when he got out of the Pit.”  
“Is this a joke ? “ Bruce asks.   
“Sadly no. He's still alive.”Damian smirks when both of his mentors roll their eyes.   
“Thank you.” Dick says. “For being here for him when we weren't.”  
“Don't make it a habit.”  
Dick smiles, Damian dodges his hand trying to ruffle his hair. “I'll go check on him.”   
His footsteps don't make any noise even when he jumps on the stairs.   
“Anything else ?” Bruce asks his son.   
“There's a new Head of the Assassin's league.”  
“Will it be a problem ?”  
“I don't think so.” Damian says. “She never planned to destroy humanity.”  
“She ?”  
“I don't know her name.”  
“But you know her.”  
Damian nods.   
“The League is your legacy. Do you feel ready to handle it if it becomes a threat ?”  
Damian nods again, and Bruce smiles at him. 

##  
“No, Kon, this apartment actually has a door!” Tim yells as Conner flies over his building heading to his window.   
“Killjoy!”   
Tim actually enjoys flying with Kon again. The Clone grips his wrists with enough force to bruise him and Tim hangs under his flying form trying to follow the lines of the roads with his feet. They land on a park near Tim's apartment and walk the rest of the way. They are both ready to jump into action if some crime happens but the streets are calms if not empty.   
Tim's apartment smells like dust. Sometimes during his stay in the Manor, someone took care of the dishes on the sink, the clothes on the floor and generally the mess he makes everywhere he stays. The only island of clutter is his desk, still covered with tools and electronics.   
“Like good old times.” Conner says. He flops on the sofa, almost surprised that not cloud of dust erupts from the cushions.   
Tim looks at the familiar surrounding. It feels hollow. It feels cold and he shivers.   
“You alright ?”  
Tim shakes his head. “I'll be fine. It's just... I haven't been here for what feels years.”  
“It was merely two weeks.”  
“I know, it's stupid.”  
Conner makes a gesture for him to sit on the sofa too.   
“Do you want to get back to the manor ?”  
Tim shakes his head. “Would you mind staying the night ?”  
“I wasn't going anywhere.”  
Conner wraps an arm around Tim, carefully rubbing the arm that was under a cast for the last weeks. The skin here is even paler than the rest of Tim, the blue veins trace a road pattern from his wrist to his elbow and Conner follow it with his nail making Tim shiver.   
“I've been thinking” Conner says “ It's not often that we have time for ouselves when you're not bruised or injuried.”   
Tim smirks. “Could you be more blunt ? I think I have a slight chance of misinterpreting your innuendo.”  
Conner's hand wraps around Tim's chin, making him turn his head slightly so they can kiss. It's soft and questioning and it makes Tim's heart jump in his chest. He moves so he sits on Conner legs, straddling his waist, deepening the kiss, his hands wrapped around the clone's head.   
They breathe heavily when they end the kiss and Tim looks distressed.   
“Something is bugging you.” Conner states. He leans on the sofa, looking at Tim, waiting for him to speak his mind.   
“It's been a long time.”  
“We can take it slow. Or do nothing at all. Your call.”  
“I want to do a lot of dirty things and I don't want it to be slow. It's just... Maybe tomorrow won't be the same.”  
“I know how you work Tim. If you feel fine tomorrow, you'll drown yourself in your work again. You'll let everything else fade away, frustration will build inside of you for weeks, even months and you'll explode as a burst of energy and sex drive. I know it , I've been through this many times with you remember ?”  
“Isn't is one of the reasons for why you left me ?”  
“No. The mind games were a reason, you using me was a reason, but the inconsistency of your libido was not.”  
For a moment, they don't talk, Tim barely breathes, they don't move.   
“I'm sorry. For everything I put you through.”Tim mutters.   
“And I'm sorry for triggering your insecurities. That makes us even. Now... about these dirty things you want to do ?”  
Tim smiles. It's not perfect, it's not the usual smile that Conner knows, but it's a genuine one and there's a glimpse of the old Tim in his eyes when he stands up and pulls Conner by the hand toward the bedroom.   
The sun didn't lit this room for weeks and it still smells a little like the cleaning products whoever did the cleaning used. The duvet, however, smells like an old memory. The pillows feel like a warm embrace and Conner freezes for an entire second when Tim pushes him on the bed. Not long enough for his partner to notice it.   
They kiss, and the sensation makes Conner smile. He folds the though deep inside his brain and focuses on Tim's heartbeat, Tim's touch, the feeling of his tongue in his mouth and the world disappears in a swirl of sensations.   
It's both strange and pleasurable to move without pain. It's a long forgotten feeling for Tim at this point. Rolling on the bed, clinging to Conner without his joints cracking is like being high. Having his lover touch him everywhere, not caring about bruises or bandages is a rare freedom and it feels as good as it's unusual.   
They kiss again and again, only losing their shirts when it gets too hot to bear them, and Tim's hands are always fresh against Conner skin. They grip his shoulders, wrap around his wrists, pinch his nipples and it's fun to pretend it hurts him because Tim laughs.   
Kisses on the lips become kisses on the neck and Tim shivers because this means something special for them. They don't bare their necks to anyone except each other. They're never that vulnerable in front of anyone except each other and he can feel Conner short hair against his jaw when he leans toward him. Conner's chest his hot against his back and his hands explore his hips until they find the button of his jeans.  
Tim's skin has never been that soft, at least not as far as Conner remembers it. His belly has never been less muscular and it's strange, like he's even more fragile than the last time Conner had him in his arms. More human, more sensitive also. He moans when Conner touch the tip of his cock through his boxers and if it was possible, Conner could crawl under his skin to feel him in his blood.  
They move against each other, eyes closed, their only guidance being the sounds they can make each other do. They take it slower than they would like, partly because it's been a long time since they had sex, and partly because delaying their releases makes it so much more enjoyable.   
It takes them forever to get rid of their pants and underwear, and then they just lay on their side, kissing, grinding against each other, mapping their bodies with the tip of their fingers.  
They whispers words that they almost don't hear. Conner bathes in the scent of sweat and laundry of the room, Tim heats up against Conner Skin and he ends up lying on top of his partner in a strange position that exposes his neck and prevent him to see the clone.   
“I can't hurt you like that, even if I lose it.” Conner whispers in his hear.   
“You never lose it.”   
Conner wraps his arms around Tim's torso and kisses him on the neck again, makes sure his partner is comfortable, Tim's back on Conner's chest and his hand caress him from his hip to the crack of his ass.   
“You okay?” he asks as the first finger enters tim.   
“Haven't been better in months.”   
it takes them an awfully long time to feel ready for anything else than slowly kiss and caress each other as Conner opens up Tim. It lacks violins and little angels throwing rose petals at them but the feeling of perfection is here. Everything keeps getting better and better as Conner thrust up into Tim and Tim bites his lips in pleasure.   
The position feels like a never ending yoga session for Tim and he gets progressively boneless under Conner's ministrations and his orgasm may not be the most explosive one but it's the exact feeling of satisfaction and happiness he needs.   
His head is cloudy, his breath short, his mind is in a delicious fog when Conner hits his own climax, his arms still wrapped around Tim's torso, squeezing him almost hard enough to asphyxiate him. But it's the right amount of pressure for them. Still on the good side of painful, just enough to remind Tim of his own body, just enough to feel good when Conner finally relax his muscles.   
They're sticky, the sheets are on the floor, the night is getting cold and the parts of them that are not covered by each other becomes icy, but it's as perfect as they can be right now.   
They barely move. Tm just slides down Conner's body and lays flat on his back, still smiling, still breathless as Conner use his telekinesis to cover them.   
They hear the distant rumble of their hearts and the echoes of the streets several feet under them. Tim starts to fall asleep, lulled by Conner's breathing and his warmth.   
“Remember about the four words ancient Greeks had for love?” Conner says softly.   
Tim nods. “You said you needed a fifth one that would sum up all the others.”  
Conner turns on his side, looking at Tim's sleepy face.   
“I've got my fifth word.” He says softly, but he can hear at Tim's slow breathing that his lover is already asleep.   
It's like the beginning of a dream, Tim's limb are heavy, the mattress is soft, he couldn't open his eyes to save his life and Conner's voice is distorted but he hears it anyway.   
“My fifth word is home. Being with you feels like being home.”  
Tim hopes, just before falling completely asleep, that he will remember these words in the morning. And that he'll get to feel Conner press a gentle kiss on his forehead many times after tonight. 

##  
The annual Wayne's family barbecue is a sign that summer is over and that the cold weather will soon take its hold on the city. It's a sign as certain as birds flying to the south.   
Damian insisted to take Batcow out of the stable arguing that she was part of the family and Bruce just sighed. Surprisingly the cow and Kori go along pretty well and Dick smiles as the animal nudges the woman with her head to ask for some petting.   
“She doesn't do it with me.” Damian points as he sits next to Dick on the long wooden table on the backyard of the Manor. Before long the table will be stored for winter.   
“I am as surprised as you are. Didn't know she had a way with animals. I'm not surprised though.”  
“Why ?”   
Dick flashes him a smile.“Because she's awesome. Nothing incredible surprise me coming from her.”  
For a minute, they silently watch Alfred carefully piling pieces of charcoal on the barbecue and explaining something to Tim about the importance of a good ember.   
“You seemed concerned the other day.” Damian says.   
Dick blinks and turn his attention toward the teenager. “Wanna develop ?”  
“You said I considered you as a slut... Why is it a concern of yours ?”  
Dick blinks again, waiting for Damian to drop the subject but the kid crosses his arms and looks at him, waiting for an answer.   
“I like you kid, and I'm... I'm concerned about you thinking bad of me.”  
“Your proclivity to enjoy sexual activities is not a reason for me to think less of you.”  
Dick winces and turn his eyes back to Kori and Batcow. “Not everyone reacts the same as you do.”  
“Wanna develop?”   
“I've been on the spotlight all my life. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy it... but being Bruce's surrogate turned out to be … well... Journalists don't all have good intentions and a rich pretty orphaned teenager is a very good catch for tabloids.”  
“It didn't prevent you from fooling around.”  
“No. it taught me to hide myself and that my sexuality would always be held against me if needed.”  
“So you go around jumping on everyone's throat when you think we judge you... interesting.”  
“Don't mock me kid !”  
Damian dodges Dick's playfull hit with a grin. “ Enough with this open hearted thing, help me bring Father back so we can eat before Autumn is over.”  
##  
“You're missing your own family reunion.” Clark states behind Bruce's back.   
Bruce is sitting in front of the batcomputer, squinting as the locating device scrolls through endless security cameras all around the globe with no result.   
“Seems like I'm easier to find than her.” He grunts. A little ball of fluff jumps on his knees and Ace forcefully pushed his head under Burce's hand. “You only needed a puppy.”  
Clark smiles, not moving from his spot behind Bruce.   
“She would hate to know you're tracking her.”  
“She has a long list of grieves against me. She can add this to my tab.”  
“Are you talking about miss kyle ?” Damian asks from the upstairs door. He steps in the cave holding Alfred-The-Cat in his arms, followed by Dick and the actual Alfred. “Cats are hard to find when they hide from you.”  
Bruce sighs and turns his chair toward his son. “And what does it tell about me when the ones I care about hide from me ?”   
“That you're a scary man.” Dick says.   
“And that you're even scarier when you try to protect your family.” Alfred adds. “Should I move the annual barbecue in here ? I'm quite concerned by what the smoke might do to the bats though...”  
Bruce smiles.   
“No. I'll come upstairs …”  
Damian squints at the maps on the screen. “I think I know who could find her.”He can almost hear Clark and Dick frowns behind his back. “Someone she doesn't know... someone she would not think of hiding from.”  
“Who's that pearl?” Bruce asks, with a faint smile.  
“Someone I'm preventing from becoming a threat.”   
He doesn't say more and the others try their best to look like his explanation is enough for them.  
When they head back to the yard, they find Kori, Conner, Tim and Jason playing their own version of volleyball that includes flying toward the ball and throwing Tim in the air to catch the ball.   
A gunshot from Jason makes a final point to the match, owning him a dirty look from Bruce.   
“I'll always be amazed at your capacity to look angry while smiling.” Clark says.   
“years of training Smallville.”  
Clark laugh.  
And the last day of summer dies in the smell of burned meat and the sound of Alfred the cat trying to ride Batcow.


End file.
